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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771402">Tonight I'm Fucking You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea'>HandsAcrossTheSea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Anal Fingering, Bondage, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Breeding Kink, Comeplay, Condoms, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Feminization, Husbands, Intersex Bucky Barnes, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Milking, Rimming, Size Kink, Titty Fucking, Top Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:34:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,322</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky wants what Steve wants - and Steve wants a lot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>256</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>One would think that after what, nearly four months without posting anything, I could come up with something a little better than this right here. I think it's to the point where I just don't expect much out of myself anymore, this is the house I just have to live in from now on. I apologize for this story's existence, and if you don't want to read a collection of kinks, and want something deeper and plottier, I kinda hope you look elsewhere. I'm not really good at anything else.</p>
<p>I want to make it PAINFULLY clear that Bucky is not trans in this. He is intersex, with a penis, testicles, a vulva, clitoris, and vagina. He has all of them. I don't want it to be confused as a coy metaphor, when those things are mentioned in this fic, they are as it says on the box. I am not being transphobic, nor do I want it to be misconstrued that way. It's fiction, and because of that, Bucky can have all of those things. And Steve loves every part of them.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wherever his damn alarm is going off, Bucky has every intention of finding it and smashing it. It’s his day off, and he was sure that he meant to turn it off before they ever went to bed last night. Except they didn’t. Because of course not. It’s on his side of the bed, because he’s the responsible one, and if it’s on Steve’s side, then it means it just goes and goes. The bastard can sleep through damn near anything, even at the fire station and the bell goes. If he’s taking a nap, it’s Bucky that has to wake him. Seriously. Whatever - he manages to track down his phone and slap it off, arm waving wildly out of the covers, furious at having to let the cool air in where he’s spooned up against Steve’s strong back. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>their </span>
  </em>
  <span>time, dammit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alarm silenced, he tucks back up under the covers and buries his nose in Steve’s neck and puts his arm back around his chest. Steve’s still soundly asleep, the only thing separating them the compression shorts that Bucky wears to bed. Something about extra warmth - not Steve though. It’s a struggle for him to even wear boxers to sleep in at the fire station. No, Steve, you can’t just sleep naked in a non-naked environment. It isn’t even like they’ve not all seen each other nude. Just. Not outside of a shower. He’s got a thing against clothes, Bucky swears he does. Sometimes. Bucky has no problem with him being comfortable, but a suit also hangs off of him very well. And his station tee. Especially around the tits, the damn things fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>strain </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be let out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s not quite asleep again, so he takes the chance to let his hand drift a little, feel up Steve’s left pec. Firm, hairy, the nipple soft, and Bucky really wants to roll him over onto his back and explore further because he can, and because part of him wants that to be the first thing Steve feels today. So maybe he’s a little covetous of his husband’s attention and sensation - but that’s not such a bad thing, is it? He closes his eyes, fingertips drawing patterns over Steve’s skin, betrayed by his own body. He’s feeling a little needier than normal for Steve’s body, his touch. Maybe because that last fire was exhausting and scary and Bucky hasn’t decompressed all the way from it, and… he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he’s also going to let Steve rest, because he worked damn hard to keep everyone safe, and he did. He always gives way, way too much of himself on the job. Approaches small emergencies with the same commitment as the big ones, because to Steve, they’re all important. It’s endearing. And sometimes really fucking annoying but goddammit, Bucky loves him. And wants him, constantly. He’s trying so, so hard to not just come right out and say that he needs Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he can’t ignore the heat down in his belly. The temptation to let his hand drift downward and give Steve’s cock a squeeze, it’s overpowering. Right as he’s making the move to do that, Steve groans in his sleep, throws the covers back and rises from the bed, naked as he can be, that perky, beefy ass strutting across the room to their bathroom, and turning just in time for Bucky to see his rock fucking hard cock jutting proudly in front, the view cut short a moment later when Steve closes the door and groans, not quite shut in enough for Bucky to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>here him hit the toilet. It sounds powerful, and Bucky… can’t find the shame in him when his body starts to respond more powerfully than he thought it would.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And it isn’t like he’s going back to sleep now, that he’s gotten such a magnificent view of Steve, burned into his mind with a permanence that he’s reminded of every single day. He slips his compression shorts off and strokes his cock under the covers, sitting up and waiting for Steve to come back. Part of him </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to wait until after breakfast and civilized conversation but this is urgent. Life threateningly so. Fuck, he had been doing so well at keeping his need under control, and now all he can even </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to think about is Steve. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve comes out of the bathroom, hair messy, stretching, scruffy as he can be and Bucky can’t fathom how someone can just wake up looking that fucking good. Bucky’s mouth </span>
  <em>
    <span>waters, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Steve sees him looking, wanting, giving Bucky this easy, familiar smile like he doesn’t have a clue as to </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bucky’s ogling him so shamelessly. “Mornin’, sweetheart.” He stops at the foot of the bed, puts his right knee up on the mattress for the extra stability. His right hand goes around his cock, still iron-hard, and strokes slow, sensual, drawing his foreskin back and showing Bucky just how deeply flushed his cock head is, deep, dusky pink and already showing the glisten of precome at the slit. “Was gonna go back to sleep, but since we’re both up…” He locks eyes with Bucky, way, way more green than normal this morning, and Bucky, hell, he’s not resistant. At all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’d you have in mind?” Already, Bucky’s leaving his spot and crawling towards Steve, making no effort to conceal his own arousal. He can feel the flush rising in his own cheeks, mouth parting as he straightens, adding his own hand to Steve’s where he’s touching himself. Holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve is big, porn star big, and Bucky’s fucking hungry for it. Steve cups his jaw, foreheads pressed together. “Cause I’m open to a lot right now.” Bucky doesn’t wait any longer - he goes for Steve’s mouth, control yanked from him as Steve licks his lips open and sucks on Bucky’s tongue, zero to one fucking hundred in a second. Bucky moans, pulls his hand up to rub his palm over the head of Steve’s cock. He feels his husband shudder, push against his fingers, sticky-wet in a big damn hurry.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s a fucking leaker, for damn sure. Bucky rubs and slicks him, his own dick hard up against his body, bumping his belly where he’s making an effort to grind against Steve’s thigh. He pushes against him, gasping at the warmth of his skin, and Steve chuckles. Breaks the kiss off, sinks his teeth into Bucky’s bottom lip. “Depends, Buck - what do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He reaches down, strokes his cock, his thumb passing over Bucky’s cock head like it was made and meant to be there. Bucky loses the plot for a second, kisses Steve for another long moment before he gives his answer - anything. Anything he wants, and Steve will give it to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And right now, Bucky wants to be fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>used. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wants Steve to take over and render control unto himself, until he’s gotten what </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants. Bucky kisses him a little harder, and then pulls away from Steve. He makes a show of turning over and laying back on the bed, head hanging off the end. He opens his mouth, wetting his lips and inhales - even with the shower they took last night, he’s still getting a hell of a lot of musk from Steve. Intoxicating, deep, manly - and Bucky wants as big of a hit as he can get. He reaches for Steve’s thighs and pulls him towards him, closing his eyes as Steve presses his cock downwards and teases it over Bucky’s mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This, baby?” Slow around his lips, salty precome just reaching his tongue. “Want me to wreck your throat?” He hums, greedy, with the knowledge of getting what he’s after. Smug fucker. “Yeah, sweetheart, that’s it, open up for me.” He guides himself to Bucky’s waiting lips and slips in, the reflex to relax immediately kicking in. This doesn’t come naturally, but Bucky’s had years now to learn how to take his husband’s cock, no matter where that might be. Bucky keeps his left hand back to maintain a hold on Steve’s thigh, but his right goes down, down, down, fondling his own balls and pulling, tugging to get a better idea of just how fucking loaded they are. God he’s horny, really, really fucking horny. Steve knows it too, his left hand pinching and tugging at Bucky’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Look so damn good like this, Buck, your fuckin’ body laid out for me, that pretty throat opening right up.” God, they’ve been here for all of thirty seconds and Steve’s dirty mouth is already going off. “That’s it, baby, just relax, take a little more.” He angles down, using the carry of his own motion to get his cock deeper into Bucky’s throat. Bucky moans, greedy, and Steve gives, God, he gives. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He starts off easy, letting Bucky get used to the girth of him. It's been long enough since they've done this that Bucky needs to be loosened up, his jaw aching as Steve's thickness stretches him out, his throat burning on low. Steve doesn't take long to get into the swing of it, feeling Bucky give bit by bit. Bucky's cock jumps, hardens on its own accord - he only keeps a hand on himself to make sure he's not about to fly apart.  Steve keeps pinching and tweaking his nipples, hardwired to his cock and cunt, the wetness behind his balls growing fast. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Getting wet for me, Buck?" It comes out nearly a growl, shot through with barely contained want. "Fuck yeah you are baby, shit - show me." Bucky obeys, fingers slipping down to ghost over his lips, slicked, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needy. </span>
  </em>
  <span> He holds them up and makes strings with his own wetness, right where Steve can see them. With a growl, Steve snatches his arm back and sucks Bucky's fingers </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard, </span>
  </em>
  <span>fucking Bucky's mouth and throat with a deep fervor. Bucky moans as loudly as he can, Steve sending him hurtling to the edge. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But not yet. Not until Steve gets his. He wants it to be by Steve's touch that he comes, not his own. By the way that Steve's dick keeps thickening in his mouth and throat, he knows it won't be long before that happens. Fuck, it feels so fucking good, to be used for this, to just be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>let go. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve growls, </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna bust, baby, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Bucky is ready, so, so ready. He sucks harder, groaning his muffled pleasure as Steve slams deep in his throat, pulse after pulse of come filling him. He can feel the contractions of Steve's cock against his lips, pumping him full. Bucky swallows until it's too much for Steve, leaving his mouth a wreck of spit and come.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Down to his knees Steve goes, licking the red slash of Bucky's lips before he plunges his tongue deep into his mouth and takes the taste of his own body from him. Bucky moans, light in the chest, greedy, kissing Steve back as hard as he can from the strange angle they're at. It ends up with Steve on the bed, both of Bucky's hands pinned above his head and Steve's left hand between his legs, stroking his cunt and making Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>tremble. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wants to be fucked, filled up from the other end - but Steve’s clearly got other plans. He breaks away from their kiss and pulls Bucky upright, towards the headboard. He sprawls himself out against it and turns Bucky around, his strong left arm braced across his body, his fingers dancing over Bucky’s pierced right nipple. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” Rumbly, right in his ear, enough to harden Bucky’s dick to steel. Steve’s fingers move up, cupping and rolling his balls before they slide lower, right into the wet, heavy heat beneath them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve rubs Bucky’s clit, thumb circling every part of him, slow at first, before he hooks his thumb and forefinger down and slips them in, pressing up on </span>
  <em>
    <span>that spot. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bucky’s head drops back against Steve’s shoulder, chest heaving, body electrified with pleasure. “Je-Jesus, fuck, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve, don’t fuckin’ stop.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bucky gets a hand around his cock, not nearly as big as Steve but Christ if he isn’t hard enough that he doesn’t feel absolutely huge in his own fucking grip. He palms, rubs hs head, no foreskin to move - high and tight, that’s how he was done. He’s still dripping precome, and Steve kisses up behind his ear, watching Bucky stroke himself. It’s nearly too fucking much, and Bucky, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bucky doesn’t know where the limit is as to how much more he can take.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wasn’t planning to,” is all Steve says. He sucks on his earlobe and drags teeth across it, rocking his fingers in and out, giving Bucky’s swollen clit everything he has. “God, you’re so fucking wet for me, baby. Always are, when I touch you just right.” Faster, stronger, and Bucky’s head is spinning, spinning, spinning. “Gonna get you nice and open for me later. Keep you on my cock all fuckin’ day, if you want. Been wanting that for a while now, just to have you, Bucky. You and me, your fuckin’ body next to mine.” It sounds so, so sweet but Bucky knows what he wants, how fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>horny </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve is. He turns for a kiss, a hot, deep one that goes right to his cock, making him arch forward - only to be snatched right back down to Steve’s body, stripping his cock in near rhythm to Steve’s own touch. “Load you up again and again, just cause I know you want it, Bucky.” Something about the way he says his name - Bucky’s going to fucking fly apart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve strokes his sweet spot, and finger number three slips in, full, full, </span>
  <em>
    <span>full, </span>
  </em>
  <span>until Bucky’s got both legs thrown over Steve’s thighs, grinding against Steve’s knuckles as much as he’s chasing his pleasure any other way. “That’s fucking it, sweetheart, take what you fuckin’ want.” Bucky’s body tightens and tightens, so, so close to coming, Steve’s fingers pressed against his prostate on the back end, his sweet spot on the other. He’s sweating, needy, on the fucking verge of breaking. And Steve keeps going and going, pouring filth right into his ear, scraping his scruff against his skin - he’s in fucking heaven. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“St-Steve, I’m close, God, I’m coming, baby, I’m fucking coming, I’m com-” He cries out, cut off by Steve’s mouth slamming over his, his cock shooting come all the way up to his fucking neck, muscles clenching, aching, fire racing through his body as his clit pulses fire, slick gushing around Steve’s fingers. He wants to run, get away, but Steve keeps him right there with him, milking him until Bucky has to close his legs, crushed and empty when Steve pulls out. He brings his fingers up to Bucky’s mouth, and with a greediness, Bucky sucks them clean, moaning all the while since Steve won’t leave his tits the fuck alone either. He’s in fucking heaven either way, and Steve just hums approvingly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, Bucky, look so fuckin’ hot when you do that, tasting yourself, </span>
  </em>
  <span>shit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah, keep going- </span>
  </em>
  <span>it’s enough to almost dovetail him into another orgasm, but his body isn’t having it. Not yet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve gathers up the come that Bucky shot across his body and sucks it from his own fingers, right off of his wedding ring, his knuckles, making a fucking greedy show of it, too. He plunges headlong back into Bucky’s mouth, repeating the process until their lips are numb and Bucky’s vision is swimming with Steve, sex, the promise of so, so much more to come. Steve gives him one last kiss, nuzzling his neck, relaxing him until they come down from their high - never mind that Steve is rock fucking hard against him. “Let’s clean up, baby - then I’m putting your ass through the ringer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No breakfast first?” God, he’s insatiable, and he loves it. Honestly, truly loves it. “C’mon, at least a protein shake.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve laughs, and it’s… it’s kind of evil, honestly. “Think again. Chest day. We aren’t skipping it this week, either.” He slips out from behind Bucky, stretching all over again. The same fucking stretch that put them in this situation. “C’mon, I’ll wash your back.” He holds his hand out and pulls Bucky to him, kissing him </span>
  <em>
    <span>mostly </span>
  </em>
  <span>chastely before leading him to the bathroom. A workout. On their day off. Can’t all the fucking they’re going to be doing count instead? Christ, half the reason that Bucky’s quads and glutes are in such fantastic shape is from constantly riding Steve. So indeed, what is the point of a workout?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Right as Steve is turning the shower on and stepping under the spray, it mats his chest hair to his pecs, and Bucky is thunderously reminded of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>exact </span>
  </em>
  <span>reason why. He climbs in with him, pulling Steve to him. “Fine, I’m game. But don’t you dare think about wearing a shirt while we’re down there.” He gives him a hard kiss, half considering letting Steve rut off against his hip. Not a chance, since a workout gets Steve’s testosterone pumping so hard and fast that Bucky knows he’s gonna be sore for a whole hell of a lot of other reasons than pumping iron.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve lathers him up, back to chest, nuzzling his ear. “Sweetheart, so long as I get you after, I’ll wear whatever you want me to. Wasn’t plannin’ on going to the firehouse for it anyway.” They’ve got a home gym, and Bucky, God, he’s in a position to ask for anything he wants. He waits a moment, enjoying the feel of Steve’s hands running over his body, waking him completely. Tender, yeah. When he wants to be.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything? Alright - no shorts. Just your jock. And you better face me the whole fucking time so I can see those fucking gorgeous tits in action.” Bucky doesn’t shy away from demanding - the laugh in his ear is proof enough to know he’ll get what he wants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think I can probably do that, baby. But if you ask for something, just remember - I’ll be doing the same thing later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like Bucky’s going to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>about turning him down.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve very definitely wasn’t kidding about the work out, and neither does he let up on Bucky for even a second. In another life, Steve would make a brutal physical trainer if he wanted to be one, but that whole hero complex won’t let him - so he’s got Bucky to coach instead. Well. Coach might not be the right word. More like look smug, cajole, show off, and then look at Bucky to ask “that all you got? C’mon, I can do this all day.” It absolutely, one hundred percent ought to be fucking infuriating. But. Steve did hold fast to Bucky’s promise, wearing only a snug black jock and his sneakers, and the second that the sweat starts to drip down his chest, Bucky’s concentration is destroyed and Steve really isn’t allowed to be surprised when he keeps slipping up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thing of it is, Bucky doesn’t want to bulk like Steve does. Bucky is perfectly okay with being twunky, strong enough to do the job of being a fireman. His gauge for lifting is Steve, and even though it may not look like it, he can absolutely throw Steve over his shoulder or carry him if need be. He’s done it enough times over the course of their relationship that neither of them need to prove it to anyone else. Not that he doesn’t pick Steve up every now and then just to prove a point, but yeah. Bucky doesn’t want to pile on the muscle. In any case, it certainly doesn’t mean he wants to stop watching Steve do it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything about him is built for strength and speed, and the heavy gear that they have to carry on the job, it doesn’t even phase him. Steve wears it like it’s a second skin, carrying those oxygen tanks like they’ve been on his back his whole life. He’s seen him carry two people at once out of a fire, easy as anything, and his firehouse tee, Christ, it stretches over his tits so snugly that Bucky is sure that, at any moment, they’re just going to bust right on out. Not that he would complain. Bucky absolutely loves his husband for the person he is, but God almighty if the sweet rack doesn’t fucking help. Steve knows it too, but he’s only ever smug about it around Bucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like right now, as he does chest flies with him, the sweat making his hair stick to his pecs and every lift of his arms showing off his pits - and there’s no deodorant on them, either. He’s musky, scruffy, keeping his eyes right on Bucky, finally giving over to offering encouragement instead of teasing. Not that the teasing isn’t coming from the right place, Bucky just likes to pretend to be irritating. And his arms and chest fucking hurt. God, how long have they been in here, and did Steve really turn the air off to make it tougher?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon Bucky, you’re doing great, sweetheart. One more set.” Steve grunts, grits his teeth, the veins standing up in his arms and chest - yeah, one more set. He’s not the one Bucky is having to watch do all of this, and since Steve is in a jock, Bucky opted to not wear anything under his shorts. Fair is fair, after all. Regardless, there’s not going to be much more concealing the fact that watching Steve like this is turning him on almost endlessly. If he wasn’t so concentrated on keeping his arms attached, he’s one hundred percent sure that he would be sporting wood right now. With the noises that Steve keeps making, it might happen anyway. Bucky scowls, brings the weights forward again, refusing to let Steve get the upper hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve turns in profile to him, completely unfair - watching his form in the mirror on one wall of the room. All Bucky sees is his caked-up ass and heavy bulge, both of which he wants to grope and lick until Steve’s begging him to either stop or ask for more. Why does everything about him have to be such a fucking turn on - Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>did not </span>
  </em>
  <span>ask for this. Any of it. But no, that’s just Steve, and Bucky’s weak for it. Always has been. Whatever. Bucky will get his soon enough, or maybe die trying. If he absolutely had to pick a way to go, it would be under Steve in the spasm of ecstasy. No question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thinking about it must flush him all the more deeply, because Steve gives him an extra smug look and sets his weights down, strutting over to just within arm’s reach. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his jock, eyes drifting over Bucky’s naked chest and and shoulders, stepping in between his arms as Bucky pulls back, kissing him without touching anything else. He holds it as Bucky completes the rep - he does this just to fucking mess with him. He does. And Bucky does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>moan, he doesn’t. Never mind that this is a guaranteed thing, but goddamit, Steve is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to get the better of him just yet. He can’t let him have that satisfaction. Bucky turns his mouth away just enough to bite back a smile, mumbling “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I need to finish my set.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Jeez. No respect for a guy’s workout, not in the least.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks like you’re doin’ just fine to me, sweetheart.” Steve reaches for his hips, thumbs caressing the cut of his bones, fingernails dragging over his skin, the resulting shiver damn near enough to make him drop the weights. “Better than fine, actually.” He plucks the weights from Bucky’s hands and sets them aside, smooth as fuck as he replaces them with his own hands. Their fingers link up and Steve pulls Bucky to him, mouth captured in a mind-scrambling kiss, their sweaty bodies touching at every possible point. Steve doesn’t let his hands just go either, keeping them linked until Bucky’s weight settles against him, and only then are they free to go where he pleases - straight to Steve’s ass. Bucky isn’t much for topping his husband, but that isn’t going to stop him at any time from grabbing a couple of handfuls. Steve groans, walking them backwards until he’s sitting on the weight bench with Bucky in his lap, straddling his left thigh, fucking Bucky’s mouth with his tongue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they separate, Bucky’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>shivering </span>
  </em>
  <span>with want. “What exactly was your plan there, Steve?” He runs his fingers through Steve’s shaggy undershave, the strands soft between his fingers. “Cause if you don’t have one, I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>plenty </span>
  </em>
  <span>of ideas.” Part of him is pretty sure that it’s what Steve wants, for him to push him down and just take control - much like Steve did to him upstairs earlier. He keeps looking into those blue eyes, the green in them a little more gone now. Steve just licks his lips and parts his mouth, tugging Bucky down by the chain that he wears his wedding ring on. All the way down, actually, until Steve is laying on the weight bench and Bucky’s got him right where he wants, straddling his hips, Steve’s cock swelling and pressing with insistence against his body. It’s nothing to reach down and free him, stroking his full length before he picks himself up just enough to take his shorts off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better to show than tell, don’t you think?” There’s pleading in Steve’s eyes, a lot of it, and Bucky won’t leave him hanging, not for anything. He kisses his way down Steve’s body, following his advice. Yeah he’s already had Steve’s dick in his mouth this morning, but why let a good thing only happen once? Besides, he’s in the position of power this time. He gets on his knees, keeping his grip on Steve’s dick as he brings him to his mouth, foreskin drawn up. He tugs at it with his lips, tasting the salt of sweat and precome already there. He watches Steve throw an arm behind his head to watch, the musk that hits Bucky is mouth-watering, his arousal skyrocketing. Again, literally everything about him is a fucking turn on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky dips his tongue down under his foreskin, circling the head in lazy circles, just to feel Steve get even fucking thicker in his hand. His throat is still sore from taking him earlier, so all he’s interested in doing is warming Steve up - he’s going to let his body do the rest of the work. Steve groans, tweaking his nipple again with his free hand, pulling at it to get more precome in Bucky’s mouth. Horny fucking bastard. Bucky licks him up, casts a glance at him, takes in the pink of Steve’s cheeks. “You want this, Steve? Want me to sit on your fat fucking cock?” He licks him from base to tip, back down twice as slow before he sucks on Steve’s heavy nuts. Steve moans, not at all the answer that Bucky was looking for - but the </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his tone is enough. “Fuck yeah you do, don’t you. Want to fuck me so bad you couldn’t even wait til we got upstairs.” He picks himself up from the floor, the taste of Steve so, so delicious in his mouth. He jerks his own cock, throwing his leg over Steve’s body, reaching back to grip his cock and guide him in. His pussy got wet the second that Steve pulled that little kiss on him while he was still doing his set, and he lets Steve feel it, teasing his tip against his arousal-swollen lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve growls, grabbing Bucky’s hips and yanking him down - slammed full, really fucking fast. Christ, it’s like he’s sitting on a fucking telephone pole, his breath punched out in a fucking hurry. “Gotta be faster than that, Bucky.” His hands slide up to Bucky’s chest, cupping his tits as he starts to fuck up into him, tugging at his nipples, hard, sensitive with arousal. Steve messes with his piercings, biting his lip as he feels Bucky clench around him. “Why the fuck would I ever wait, sweetheart? Want you all the goddamn time, ‘s never fucking enough.” Slow, long, deep strokes, and Bucky’s got a hand on himself in no time at all. “Really don’t see anything wrong with going after my fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>husband.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He puts emphasis on that term with a roll of his hips, feet braced against the ground to give him the right sort of leverage. Bucky cries out, fucked full.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s right, completely, and how the hell is he supposed to argue. It certainly isn’t like they aren’t going to fucking go again. “Fuck me, Steve, just… fucking fuck me.” Bucky braces a hand on Steve’s chest, rising and falling on Steve just as much as Steve meets him, body to body, a chorus of swearing, moans, panting in the coursing testosterone that their workout has shoved through their veins. Steve’s tits look fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>incredible, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Bucky is torn between jerking himself off as Steve fucks the shit out of him and constantly grabbing them, squeezing, playing with Steve’s nipples, and all the while his cock leaks a heavy flow of precome all over Steve’s hairy stomach. Every thrust of Steve’s cock, he feels through his entire body. Opening and opening, Steve’s fingers dug into his hips and leaving bruises that will be there for days. Not because he wants to hurt Bucky, no - he’s just that fucking strong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The angle’s all to good for Bucky to last, the pressure behind his cock exquisite, perfect, and Steve, right at the end, lets go of his left hip and slips it under Bucky’s balls, rubbing his clit fast, direct, just enough to send him towards the edge. “C’mon, Buck, fucking come on me, mark me up, sweetheart.” Steve’s thrusts are getting faster, ragged - he’s chasing too. Bucky grits his teeth, twists at the head of his cock and that’s it, lights fucking out, his orgasm ripping the fuck through him and hitting Steve in the face and chest. Steve roars </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck yes </span>
  </em>
  <span>and nearly throws Bucky off the weight bench, coming deep, body shaking. God, he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he blows like this, and Bucky just can’t get enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve tastes the come that Bucky shot all over him - licks it right off from his chin - and yanks Bucky, again, by the chain around his neck. Salty, sweaty kisses blossom between them, and Bucky’s pulled under yet again. When Steve finally does let him go, they’re both a little sharp around the edges, soaked, sticky - </span>
  <em>
    <span>hungry. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve helps Bucky to his feet, grabs a gym towel and wipes himself clean, then then bends Bucky over to go over the inside of his legs - anything that leaks out of him can stay. “I’m starving,” Bucky confesses, and picks up his shorts from the floor. “Starving and sweaty and I feel like a damn Boston cream pie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve snorts a laugh, tucking himself back into his jock. “I… I can fix one of those things. You want me to use a rubber next time?” They’ve got plenty, and even being committed to each other, some days, it’s just the preference. “Pretty sure there’s some in the kitchen, just in case we don’t make it back to the bedroom for round three.” The concern in his eyes is real, and Bucky can’t help but grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think we should worry about it when we’re in the moment, don’t you think?” Steve kisses him again, and this time there’s sweetness, unhurried and pure. “What’re you hungry for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you’re cooking, Steve. You know I’m not picky.” God, the guy’s a damn good chef too, both here and at the firehouse. “You gonna let me clean up a little more before I pig out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Think it’s a little late on not pigging out, don’t you think?” Steve smirks, and if Bucky wasn’t so well fucked, he’d be smacking him right now. Bucky rolls his eyes, and Steve snorts, again. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think it’s funny, but you’re not the one who’s gonna be sore for the rest of the day.” Never mind that Bucky brought it entirely upon himself, and will again. He just likes to lay the blame at Steve’s feet for this sort of thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go shower, or whatever - your breakfast will be ready soon, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweetheart.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Steve swats him on the ass, and as they climb the stairs out of the basement, Steve makes damn sure that Bucky gets a good view of his glutes as they ascend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh yes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky is absolutely going to let this man destroy him, however he wants.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bucky grabs a quick shower - again - just to wash himself down, deciding that sitting and letting Steve's come drip out of him isn't actually the best idea while he's trying to enjoy his husband's culinary prowess. Besides, he can't really get Steve using a rubber on him out of his mind. Like when they were dating right out of school and Bucky was doing his best to be a respectable guy, sticking by Sarah Rogers' advice: be safe, always. She was a good woman, a smart woman, and Bucky misses her just as much as Steve does, having her right down the street. She calls a few times a month, but he knows that Steve misses going to her house, just sitting in the kitchen and helping her cook, just talking, whatever - but sunny Florida is also a hell of a lot nicer in the winter than western New York. Can't really blame her for wanting to go, especially since retirement means no more having to shovel snow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever Steve is putting together, it smells incredible. Bucky slips on a pair of sweats, freeballing again, and heads for the kitchen, still drying his hair before pulling it back into a bun. He and Steve both need at least a trim, but Alexa has been booked up for weeks now - so shaggy they shall continue to be. When he enters the kitchen, Steve is still wearing just his jock - ass out for everyone to see - but he is at least in an apron to at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>try </span>
  </em>
  <span>and protect the goods. It's really all Bucky can ask for. He comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Steve's stomach, slipping them under the apron. The musky scent of his husband and Sarah Rogers' Deluxe Omelettes mix in the air, mouthwateringly so.  Bucky, in that moment, feels very, very spoiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sure that there's a joke in there somewhere about needing a lot of protein, but since your feeding me your mom's omelettes I'll keep it to myself." He kisses Steve's cheek before he goes and sits at the bar, admiring the view of his husband's back side with a gloating sort of greed; yeah, this is all his. Everlasting plus one for Bucky. "Had your coffee yet?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"On my second cup, babe." He holds up his mug, and then brings Bucky his. “Sorry I didn’t wait, but it was necessary.” He leans over the counter and gives Bucky a kiss, then goes back over to the stove. Warmth blossoms through Bucky’s body as he gets his first sip, restoring some of the energy expended so far today. It’s really still early, and Bucky’s mind is wandering all over the place. He still tingles for Steve, in spite of being ravenous as hell. They’ll get there again, alright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a problem.” He sighs, not even reading the newspaper that Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>surely </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t go out in just his jock to get - not that it would surprise Bucky in the least if he did. “You know, I don’t hate the idea of you suiting up, for the next time.” Why is asking his husband to wear a condom such an intimidating thing? God, stone number one, right there. “Not like I’ve been thinking about it or anything, I just… thought - you know what, never mind. Wear the condom, babe, cause I want you to.” He sips his coffee, gulping just as Steve turns around and brings him his breakfast, perfectly done toast on the side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Bucky, say it.” He sits next to him at the bar, knees touching, an idle hand stroking down Bucky’s spine. “What were you thinking.” He lets Bucky eat some of his omelette first, and yes, Bucky has to restrain himself from being a </span>
  <em>
    <span>complete </span>
  </em>
  <span>pig - but it’s fucking delicous. Steve tears into his as well, whimpering a little at his own creation. Bucky didn’t really </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>the extra help in getting turned on, but Steve fucking does it for him anyway. Right. Steve asked him a question, and communication is really fucking important.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sets down his fork and sips more coffee, turning his body towards Steve, rubbing his naked thigh. “I want you to fuck me with the condom on and then feed me your load after. Just dump it in my mouth, sweetheart. We… we’ve never actually done that. And I don’t want to waste a drop.” Bucky doesn’t think that Steve was expecting him to come at him so seriously with that proposition. “As much come swapping porn as we watch, Steve, you can’t… you can’t have never wanted to try it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I always uh, thought you preferred me to lick it out of you directly. Not - it isn’t a problem, Buck, I swear, I just didn’t think it was weighing on your mind that heavily. And how this is a normal conversation for us, which ought to be scary, right?” He grins, and Bucky just shakes his head. “Haven’t read the paper yet, so unless there’s something in there to chew over…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rather chew your foreskin, but that’s just a preference.” Bucky waits for Steve to get himself back together before he finishes his breakfast, sees Steve grind the heel of his hand against his crotch. “You good?” He’s plenty willing to help him out, if Steve is struggling. Three blowjobs in one day isn’t even enough to start batting an eye at for them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve nods, eyeing Bucky closely. “Never better - just glad that I married someone who’s as much of a dick pig as I am.”  No lies there, Bucky thinks. “But if that’s what you want Buck, I’ll do it. You know I will.” The passion is burning in his eyes, way more strongly than before, now that they’ve gotten something in each other that isn’t well, each other. “We think too much about this stuff, don’t we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, about wanting each other? Steve, I don’t really want anything else. I’m not ashamed of being really fucking into my husband.” Bucky leans over and kisses him, sliding off his stool to stand between Steve’s legs and do it properly. His tongue is warm from the coffee, rich, smoky even - Bucky chases that taste until Steve’s hands are around his hips and sliding down to his ass, fingers dipping past the loose waistband of his sweats. His touch is work-roughened, earthy, completely his own. Bucky shivers when Steve goes deeper than he was expecting, rubbing over his hole like that. He doesn’t get quite as wet back there, not enough to take Steve - but he knows that they have supplies in the kitchen closet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never let it be said that it doesn’t pay off to be well prepared for any possible situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s hands go to his chest, squeezing his pecs under the apron, which Steve promptly unties and pulls over his head. “I might be just a little bit obsessed with your body too, Steve.” He feels him everywhere, all the while as Steve keeps him pulled close, warmth radiating from skin to skin. Steve smells heavenly, manly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>strong. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bucky’s hand goes low enough to cup his bulge, breathless to find that he’s hard enough to strain the fabric of his jock - that fucking fast, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve lets him explore, shoving his sweats down, caressing, kneading his ass, laying claim to what he wants. Bucky fucking wants him to take it, and when it does happen, how fucking sweet it’s going to be. That depends on how patient Steve is, really - it’s been long enough since Bucky’s taken him back there that the novelty is enough to make his pulse race like lightning across a stormy sky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That moment comes when Steve growls against his mouth, turns Bucky around and pushes him against the bar. “Hold still, sweetheart” - sweet on the edge, sure, but Bucky knows to stay fucking put. Steve pulls his sweats down to the floor and kisses down his back from the nape of his neck, fingers like brands as they spread his cheeks. “Pink as hell, Bucky.” He doesn’t have a ton of hair back there, and when he feels Steve’s warm breath move across that tender place, his body goes on high alert. “Pretty as your cunt, baby, you know that?” He kisses his hole, the brush of his hot, dry lips enough to send Bucky skywards. Steve teases him for a long beat, licking and kissing </span>
  <em>
    <span>around, </span>
  </em>
  <span>letting Bucky get to the point where he wants it even more. The fucker has the nerve to lick all the way down to his balls, teasing his pussy with the tip of his tongue, then back up until Bucky’s moaning loud enough to rattle the fucking walls. Christ, he doesn’t need to sound like he’s in fucking heat, but it’s Steve, every goddamn thing is dialed up to one fucking thousand and Bucky hates it and loves it all at once.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One hand disappears from his ass, and Bucky doesn’t have to look to know that Steve is touching himself. God, he wants him to, wants Steve to get off on this just as hard as he is. Steve huffs against his skin, horny for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bucky makes himself relax and when Steve’s tongue finally does lick over his hole, he nearly fucking bites his lip off. Slow, heavy passes of Steve’s tongue are like body blows, except really fucking good and all he can fucking feel - one extreme to the other. Steve is going to let him fucking have it now, eating his ass out like he’s the world fucking champion. Hell, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>might </span>
  </em>
  <span>be - Bucky doesn’t go around making comparisons. It isn’t long before he’s got a hand on his own cock, stroking, milking his precome, trying to keep the fuck up with his husband. He reaches back behind himself and gives his wet fingertips to Steve, and he cleans those up too. He’s wet, really fucking wet, squirming from the scrape of Steve’s beard, half tempted to shove fingers into his own cunt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only trouble being that Steve is really fucking good at this and anything Bucky does to himself isn’t going to feel half as good, and he knows that. He can feel his body yielding and opening up to him, ready for Steve to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>take - </span>
  </em>
  <span>pushing back against his face ought to be enough of an indicator, and Steve isn’t exactly stopping him from being greedy. Anything for him, absolutely anything. Bucky’s being driven insane, and it’s only when he’s about to reach back and pull Steve’s hair to fuse them together that Steve stops, nearly trips getting to the closet, ripping the box of Magnums open as he comes back to Bucky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“D’you have any fucking idea how goddamn hard I am right now for you, Buck?” Steve turns him, and Christ, he’s not kidding - he looks fucking hard enough to cut steel. “Just thinking about getting in your tight little ass, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nothin’ like it.” Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>whimpers </span>
  </em>
  <span>as he watches Steve put the fucking rubber on, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>tight </span>
  </em>
  <span>on him, a fucking extra large condom, and it’s tight on Steve. His brain flatlines, lube-coated fingers rubbing over his hole before they slide in, one more step of quick and dirty prep; his body will stretch enough on its own that Steve doesn’t have to do a whole fucking lot - especially when he’s fucking greedy to get his ass stuffed by Steve’s fat cock. “Gonna fucking wreck you, sweetheart, promise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop fucking around and do it, Steve.” Bucky throws a look over his shoulder, listens to Steve mumble something about </span>
  <em>
    <span>bossy bottoms - </span>
  </em>
  <span>well, it’s Steve’s fault entirely that he’s this way. Getting his ass licked out like that does make him fucking greedy. But when Steve lines his cock up, lubing as he pushes into his body, Bucky forgets all about his impatience. Bastard had to have done that by design, he’s sure of it. Slow and steady he fills Bucky up, both of them panting, moaning, Bucky’s grip on the bar tenuous. Steve curls over his back, hands on his chest and </span>
  <em>
    <span>pulling </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bucky the rest of the way onto him. The angle at which that motion reaches its apex makes it feel like the end of Steve’s dick is knocking on the back of his throat, shoved full and deep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky grits his teeth, heart hammering away at his sternum. “You have the biggest fucking cock in the goddamn world and if you don’t fucking move-” Steve yanks his head around and bites into his mouth, his hips speaking a lot of what it was Bucky was about to say. Steve tongue fucks his mouth as he grinds, rolls his hips, leaves Bucky breathless with the motion and drag of his cock inside him. The lube does its job, letting Steve slide and nail whatever the hell he wants, the muted heat of being wrapped in the condom a uniquely powerful pleasure that Bucky is affirmed in knowing was a good idea. Steve keeps him wrapped in a kiss, Bucky’s dick swinging freely as Steve fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>pounds </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. He doesn’t keep a hand on himself, able to feel the drips of precome splatter and stick to his thighs, forced out by Steve’s massive dick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve shoves Bucky down, hands on his shoulders, keeping his grip tight enough that he can feel the marks already forming on his skin. “Any idea how fucking good this feels, Buck, how goddamned tight you are?” Over and over again, he fucks him, hard enough that Bucky can feel his nuts swinging and hitting his body. Steve’s words are nearly enough on their own, and Bucky, at this point, is a human Fleshjack, built for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>pleasure - like earlier this morning, but a hell of a lot better. His prostate is singing, louder and louder, building to the sweet release that Steve’s going to give him. Right as he’s on the upward swing of it, Steve pulls out, picks him up and fucking carries him over to the wide counter next to the sink, puts him flat on his back and slams back into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wanna see you come for me, Buck.” His eyes are wild, strands of hair falling over his forehead. Sweat glistens on his body, in his chest hair, a living, breathing fantasy come to life out of the wildest of Bucky’s wet dreams. “Baby, shit, I’m so fucking close, gonna fucking fill this up, just for you.” He claws at Bucky’s chest with his left hand, right wrapping around his cock and jerking him off fast and hard, gazes locked. Bucky’s grip on the sink and faucet is slipping, legs thrown wide, driving and driving until Bucky’s back arches and he explodes, spurt after spurt of come fucked right out of him, blasting himself and Steve. Steve fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>howls, </span>
  </em>
  <span>hilt-deep, close enough that Bucky can feel each pulse of his dick as he fills the condom, shaking, moaning, lapping up another dirty kiss from Bucky’s sex-bitten mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ends up pulled halfway towards Steve, backing his cock out and sliding the condom off, careful to not spill even a drop. He seizes Bucky’s jaw, keeping his mouth popped open with the gentlest pressure, still looking right at each other as Steve empties his load out onto his tongue. White, hot spunk slides back into his mouth, over his lips, until the condom is empty and Steve’s tongue is filling his mouth up once again. Bucky wraps his legs around Steve’s waist, cocks sliding against each other. His arousal doesn’t ebb in the least, strung out on the salt of Steve’s load, his body thrumming with lava-hot desire. Steve gave him what he wanted, and he wants fucking more. And it would be so, so easy for Steve to just slide into his dripping wet pussy, bare this time. His ass is still sore and wrecked, and he can feel his own gape - goddamn it how Steve triggers the want to take him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The strings of spit and come between their lips sag and fall, tugged further when Steve bites his bottom lip and pulls at it. “Not done with you just yet.” He reaches down, cock dragged over Bucky’s balls and down to his cunt, frotting against his clit for a glorious moment before he slips in, and Bucky is filled up all over again. Steve braces his arms on the counter, decides that’s not good enough, and then pulls Bucky all the way to him, off the counter, and then turns and slams him to the wall next to the refrigerator, rattling the dishes in the cabinet further down. He fucks </span>
  <em>
    <span>up, </span>
  </em>
  <span>hard, like he didn’t just have a bone-rattling orgasm they swapped until it ran down their chins. Bucky can’t do anything but hold on, face buried in Steve’s neck, teeth biting into his shoulder when Steve’s cock slides over </span>
  <em>
    <span>his spot. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Never fucking done with you, baby.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky moans, nearly out of his own goddamn mind and body. “I know,” he manages, broken-voice by sheer force of the endorphins cutting through him. “God, Steve, I fucking know.” Steve growls, kisses his skin, fucking and fucking, bouncing Bucky up and down on his cock. Where Bucky’s dick is trapped against his belly, it keeps rubbing, torturously, until it makes him start to swell and pulse, his cockhead aching for another release. That’s where he feels it, rubbing against Steve’s body hair, and every slam of Steve’s hips up into his is enough to yank him closer, joined up with the fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>growling - </span>
  </em>
  <span>yeah, he’s about to fucking lose it again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets his mouth up next to Steve’s ear, suspended on a bit of what has to be rapidly cracking drywall and Steve’s biceps, </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna bust, Steve, fuck, make me fucking come on your dick </span>
  </em>
  <span>and there’s a roaring in his ears, his cock twitching and spitting load number four up Steve’s chest, slammed down once again, his pussy filled, creamed, wet beyond belief. He feels Steve’s legs finally give and down they go, a slow collapse right down to the kitchen floor, catching breath on the cool tile. Steve strokes Bucky’s hair, his skin so hot that it’s like he’s gotten a full sunburn. Bucky kisses his neck and shoulder, every muscle in his body turned to jelly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And still Steve reaches down and gets three fingers in his pussy, pulling his cock out and then licking his fingers clean. “You’re a fucking pig, Steve,” Bucky mumbles, oversensitive, content - but he’s not going to stop Steve, either. “We can’t stay down here all day you know.” He manages to pick his head up, looking down into his husband’s sharp blue eyes. They always look like the sky after a good fuck, and damn if Bucky doesn’t get a little lost in them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t planning on it.” He’s got come in his scruff, but Bucky leaves it, for now. “How the fuck are you still that tight after this morning? Christ, Bucky, you keep that shit up and you’ll get a guy hooked on you.” He still sounds ready for it - but Bucky knows that they both need to tap out, just for a little while. Steve doesn’t try it, but the promise is fucking there for later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t let you in on all the secrets.” He smiles, pulls Steve up to him, straddling his thigh. “Don’t you want me to maintain at least a little mystery?” He needs a piss, badly, and Steve is gonna start squirming before too much longer as well. “And don’t say no, you know you love it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything about you, but if that’s how it’s gonna be from now on, I want some warning so I can work on my stamina a little more.” Steve finally gets up off the floor, and Bucky follows, trusting his legs to get him to the bathroom - again - for clean up. Even Steve is starting to smell more ripe than musky. Sexy as he is when he’s sweaty, Bucky knows that he’s conscious about swamp ass. “What, what’s that look for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky can’t help but laugh at him. This fucking man, he’s such a babe. “Steve, you’ve pumped what, four huge loads into me this morning, and you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>worried about stamina? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I love you, I really do. C’mon, you clearly need help if that’s what your biggest concern is right now.” Down the hall they go, and Bucky skips the shower in favor of a bath - they didn’t get that big tub installed for nothing. “Next time, I can do all the work if you want me to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All of it? Start to finish?” Steve lights up, and Bucky knows he’s onto something. “I like the sound of that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky smirks, turns on the water and pulls Steve in with him. “Not nearly as much as I like hearing you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he’s going to let Steve get as loud as he fucking wants.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is where the relatively mild part of this story ends - from here on out, it's gonna be kinks. If you stop here, I completely understand. More than that, if you've made it this far anyway, I applaud you. Because who doesn't want to nope out of badly OOC porn.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Every now and then, Steve and Bucky aren’t on the same shift, and at those times, Bucky really isn’t sure what to do with himself. A twenty four hour shift is standard, but every now and then, it gets split. One of them works seven to seven, day to night, and then the next one goes in for the same shift overnight. Sure, Bucky gets along just fine with the other guys at the station, but none of them are Steve. And it’s freaky on another level, because what if something happens to one of them and the other isn’t there to help. He knows that Steve’s anxiety gets really bad during those times, and there’s not much that Bucky can really do about it. All he can do is keep safe and hope that things stay well, for both the people he protects, and Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun is well on its way up by the time his shift ends, and not having gotten much rack time in the interim. He’s tired, moody, and he wants Steve, their fuckfest of a couple weeks ago still lingering in his mind. They haven’t repeated it since, between doing their ongoing work on their property, work, and all the other stuff that comes with just </span>
  <em>
    <span>existing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He had been gone by the time Steve came home, dinner left in the oven for him, and the last time they talked had been for Steve to tell him it was delicious. His silence since then has been a pretty good indicator that he’s likely asleep, and Bucky really is glad that he’s resting. He’ll try to hang in there as long as he can when he gets home, but he knows that there’s not gonna be much time for the two of them until later that day. If he can grab six hours, he’ll be good to go for whatever is needed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His stomach rumbles with hunger, and halfway home, he’s thinking about a thick bowl of oatmeal and apples, good stick to your ribs food. His mom fed it to him a lot growing up, and his penchant for him has never really gone away. Bucky is reasonably sure that there’s some left in the pantry - he just has to stay awake long enough to eat it. The coffee will be done, its timer to start brewing automatic, and he’d set it last night before he’d gone to the station. Better if he shares it with Steve, but he’s probably resting in, and Bucky plans to let him. He also certainly isn’t going to ask Steve to stay in bed with him, if he’s ready to get up. Provided he isn’t already. Always a possibility, he supposes. Oatmeal first, then check in on Steve. Maybe a quick shower, too. Just because there weren’t any calls overnight doesn’t mean that he didn’t sweat. There’s always shit to do, and Bucky had done all that he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right now, he wants to snuggle up to Steve until he passes the fuck out, and after that, he’ll worry about his next move. The best thing is listening to Steve’s breathing, feeling his arm around his shoulders. He isn’t… touch starved, no. He just wants Steve’s touch </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the time. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That’s not such a bad thing to crave, he figures. Not when it’s his husband. Focus, Bucky, and drive. You know exactly where Steve is. Nothing has happened to him, and nothing is going to. Just keep your eyes on the road.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before he knows it, he’s in the driveway, parked next to Steve’s Silverado, exactly where it always is when he’s home. Bucky gets out, the veranda lights dimmed due to the sun rising. He yawns as he gets his keys out and slides them into the lock, the smell of coffee greeting him as he steps inside and lets his shoulders drop, tired beyond measure but oh so happy when the scent of coffee hits his nose. He takes his shoes off and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it in the laundry room before he steps into the kitchen, the air cool as contrasted with the warm metal chain around his neck. His wedding ring feels a little heavier than normal, and he takes it and puts it in his mouth as he makes his coffee and starts his water heating for the breakfast he promised himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s no evidence to indicate that Steve has gotten out of bed yet; his running shoes are still on the rack next to the couch, his water bottle in the dish drying rack. Yeah, he’s still safely in bed, and Bucky yearns to be with him as soon as he can. The newspaper he picked up on the way in will be his breakfast companion, and as he eats, he skims through it, always looking for news about the fire department. Today’s doesn’t have much in it, but that’s not such a bad thing - how much can a daily small town rag get into it? Still, it’s something his dad always did, read the paper at breakfast, laugh with Bucky at the comics, and save the interesting stuff for later, just in case anyone wanted to know about it. He could get the exact same thing on his tablet, but to Bucky, there’s something really, deeply comforting about holding the paper to read it. He even likes the smell of the pages, which Steve has always laughed at him for. Not… mockingly, just in the way that husbands do at their partner’s little quirks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, Steve, when you go on and on about the quality of different sketch pads, you sound off your gourd for being that passionate about </span>
  <em>
    <span>texture </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>quality</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Bucky muses. He’ll let him keep it, but there’s absolutely no difference in the energy of the argument, and that’s that. God he loves him, he really does. Bucky finishes his oatmeal and takes his work shorts off too, down to just socks and his trunks as he turns the light off, coffee warming him, and heads for their bedroom to let the memory foam work its magic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sight he walks in on is absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one that he was expecting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve is very much awake alright, and it looks like he’s been up for quite some time. His skin is flushed and shiny with sweat, the covers kicked over, and he lies in the middle of the bed, his right hand wrapped around his hard, hard cock as his left tugs at his nipples, fucking his own fingers with a grunting force that Bucky’s heard about a million times, right in his ear. The open jar of coconut oil next to him on the bed speaks volumes, making Steve’s fingers shiny where he’s clearly been edging himself; to his right lays his stroker, and it too is covered in oil. In the air, Bucky doesn’t pick up the scent of come, not yet anyway - God, how long has he been teasing himself to get his body that riled up? He’s got his eyes closed, so he’s not even seen Bucky yet, and another quick glance around the room shows the porn he’s got on the television that sits on top of the dresser. Good God, Steve’s trying to break himself down to bare elements here, and Bucky’s really not sure if he should leave and let Steve finish or jump in and help. It isn’t like this hasn’t happened more than a few times over the course of their time together, with both of them being caught in the position of fucking the hell out of themselves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only Bucky normally has a couple fingers up his own ass to go with it, but Steve’s not much for object insertion back there. Still, Bucky likes that he can see all of the hair that he has spreading down from his nuts to his crack, legs spread wide to push up off the bed and into his own grip. Suddenly, Bucky isn’t so tired anymore and he doesn’t flinch a bit when Steve finally looks up and sees him, mouth parting, dick throbbing, his eyes dropping to where Bucky is cupping himself through his trunks - what other </span>
  <em>
    <span>possible </span>
  </em>
  <span>reaction could either one of them have had to this situation? Bucky is always going to watch his husband touch himself, because Steve looks really fucking hot when he does it. There’s just no two ways about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I didn’t hear you come in.” Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>twists </span>
  </em>
  <span>at his cock head, foreskin drawn back, frenulum stretched - has Bucky ever seen his cockhead look so pink? They keep looking at each other, and Bucky sees no inclination in Steve’s expression that he’s going to stop. Good. He doesn’t fucking want him to. “So you just gonna stand there or come help me out?” Steve points his dick towards him and lets Bucky see the long drip of silvery precome from his wide slit, thick, dredged up from his nuts by sheer force of want. Bucky nearly bites his tongue in half, slipping the trunks off before he does as he’s asked, cock hard, jutting out from his body, laying next to Steve’s left side. He sees one of his jockstraps, the one he wore day before yesterday while he was working out - Christ, how many times has Steve stolen one to beat off with?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get what you needed out of that?” Bucky indicates towards the jock, and then turns his head and gives Steve a biting kiss, pulling him over onto his side to raid Steve’s mouth. Steve moans, doesn’t stop stroking himself, and when he growls, Bucky feels it throughout his entire body. Goddamn this man and his fucking force of nature sex. “Asked you a question, sweetheart.”  He reaches over, stroking Steve’s dick, knocking his hand out of the way. Steve does the same to him, his hand covered in fresh oil, and the touch of his husband on his cock is as familiar and fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>as his own. Bucky lets his legs fall open, wrapped up completely in the atmosphere of sex and lust that Steve has so crafted to be so intoxicating. He lets his eyes drift to the porn that he was watching, hot, come-swappy shit that they’ve both seen a thousand times but never fails to get them bone fucking hard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They get caught up in the chorus of moans, flesh on flesh, oil-slick touches, kissing and stroking off until Bucky ends up on top of Steve, cock to cock, his tongue buried deep in Steve’s mouth. It’s Steve’s hand that’s around them, Bucky braced against the headboard and Steve’s shoulder. Bucky ruts against Steve’s body as much as Steve’s stroking them, giving him that extra bite of friction on every thrust. He fucking loves it, stealing the very breath from Steve’s lungs, harder, faster, his body’s focus entirely in his dick and balls. He takes it a step further, grinding the wet lips of his cunt against Steve’s cock, long slides that have Steve sucking his tongue even deeper. “Fucking slutty little bitch, aren’t you?” Steve growls, jerks them faster, and it puts shockwaves through Bucky’s body. “Yeah, you fucking are, Bucky, just couldn’t help but try and get me in you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you fucking blame me?” Bucky’s voice comes out a wreck and Steve bites his way back in, finding that perfect place and hitting it hard; they spurt come at the same time, all the way up to Steve’s chest, thick, heavy ropes of white that rend themselves from the depths of their bodies. It leaves Bucky breathless, horny, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve’s hand doesn’t quite on them until they’re both panting, the kiss turning gentler by slow degrees. The bleachy scent of their seed makes Bucky’s mouth water, framed up so perfectly between Steve’s hairy fucking tits.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s never been one to pass up an opportunity. Ever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky lets Steve relax a little more before he takes hold of Steve’s pecs, thumbs sweeping over his nipples; God, how fucking hot it would be if Steve was pierced like him. Steve hisses, body sensitive, eyes cutting up to get a read on what it is that Bucky wants. “Shove ‘em together, Steve.” Bucky’s hands slide down and off to the sides, squeezing his husband’s chest so he gets the picture. Steve smirks, yanks Bucky’s chain for a kiss, and does as he’s told. Bucky moves up his body and grinds his cock against his spunk-sticky body hair, making a grip as best as he can. “Fuck, yeah, just like that baby.” He puts his hips into it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>using </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve’s body for his pleasure. Steve looks at him with lust, adoration, the supreme contentment at having someone just as dirty of a horndog as him obvious in his gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Been wanting this, haven’t you?” Steve pushes his pecs together a little harder, giving Bucky everything that he can to work with. “I see you checking out my rack all the fucking time, Bucky, don’t try and deny it.” Bucky flushes more, if it’s possible - yeah, he does. Christ, as much time as he spends sucking off his husband’s tits before he blows him, this is only the natural progression. Using their own some to slick the way, hell, that’s got Bucky boned the fuck up that much more. “Shit, sweetheart, keep fuckin’ em, that’s fucking hot as hell.” Steve’s mouth, hell, so goddamned unhinged when he’s this horny, this worked up. It’s a beautiful thing, and every syllable wraps his balls in warmth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky growls, bears down harder, his other hand cupping and squeezing Steve’s chin. “Open fucking wide, Steve, I’m about to fucking bust.” Christ, those lips, pink as a sunset, sweet when they want to be, dirty as fuck the rest of the time. Steve does as instructed, licking his lips before he shows Bucky his teeth and tongue, the perfect fucking place to finish marking Steve up. He lifts himself away from Steve’s chest, going up on one knee and aiming right for his mouth, open wide just like in the porn they watch. Bucky grits his teeth as his orgasm rips out of him, right from his fucking prostate. The first few shots land </span>
  <em>
    <span>across </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve’s face, coating his scruffy cheeks in come, and the rest splashes in his mouth - gratefully swallowed. Steve’s body moves as he grips his own cock and shoots off, the force of his climax enough that Bucky feels come splatter against his back and ass. He steals a glance in the mirror behind him - his back looks like a fucking Pollock - a fucking mess.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He drops down to kiss Steve again, greedy for his own taste out of Steve’s mouth. Steve lets him have it too, as much as he wants, and it’s not long before his exhaustion starts to win over again, full and happy, his blood singing with warmth. Steve caps off the oil and nudges Bucky to get up, no fucking way they’re falling asleep messy like this. “I’m not carrying you, Buck, c’mon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I should be offering to carry </span>
  <em>
    <span>you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>considering what I just did.” Bucky does indeed get up, going first so Steve can ogle his come-sticky back. “And plan to do again, by the way.” He smirks over his shoulder at Steve, and gets a sharp swat on the ass. That he probably likes entirely too much. “What the hell was that for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cause pink looks good on your skin, and because I want warning next time you do it. If that’s how it’s gonna be, we might have to step chest day up to twice a week.” Steve pops his pecs, and Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>starting to calm down a little bit more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It looks like Steve is doing his utter best to undo that. “You brought it on yourself, Bucky.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just get in the damn shower so I can go to bed.” Bucky lets him in first, and the second he’s under the spray, wraps him up in another kiss. And maybe, just maybe Bucky’s going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>keep </span>
  </em>
  <span>bringing it on himself, if this is what it’s going to keep getting him. Why the hell would he complain anyway?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If there’s a reason, Bucky certainly hasn’t found it yet.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There’s always a certain amount of enjoyment to be had in catching a movie in the rec room at the fire station, even with the possibility of it being interrupted at any moment, because that’s just the nature of the beast. Regardless, they’ve had dinner (roast chicken with this fucking magical combination of seasonings that Bucky really wants to find out the recipe for) and now Mission Impossible is playing on the screen, and Steve, God love him, has been fixated the whole time; yeah, Bucky would give it up for Cavill too, but Steve would have to be there with him. Being sandwiched between those two, Christ, he might actually die and go to heaven. But when Bucky’s got his own beefcake, whatever’s on screen really does pale in comparison. Beefcake that he can touch and lick and experience any time he fucking wants to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had started a conversation earlier, something Steve had mentioned while they were doing an equipment inspection. Something about </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanting to take it to the next level </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Bucky, well, he’s been latched onto that kernel of an idea since Steve mentioned it. There’s always an intense sort of curiosity when Steve says stuff like that. He backtracks to what they had been talking about - the hickey on Bucky’s collarbone had showed itself, and Steve had rolled with it from there. Sex on the brain, that’s Steve -but also nothing really new for either one of them. Bucky is </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>thinking about new ways to give Steve what he needs and wants. But after that, the Chief had stopped to speak to them, and there really hasn’t been a chance to pick it back up since then. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As far as Bucky is concerned, Cavill is just going to have to wait, and Steve’s attention will just have to be on him for a bit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reaches over and rubs his knuckles down the back of Steve’s head and neck, gently as he can. Steve turns and looks at him, the two of them taking up one end of the couch, not in the least bit ashamed to keep an arm around each other’s shoulders. The guys knew about them before they were here even a week, and not once has anyone given them any serious shit over it. So long as they don’t fuck in the shower, and that’s a line, while tempting to cross, hasn’t actually been yet. Good for everyone, right? Bucky gets a little closer, putting  his lips to Steve’s ear. “Wanna go get some air, sweetheart?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve looks back at the screen, then back to Bucky, seriously having to think about it. “Depends on your meaning of ‘air.’” He smirks, and Bucky just shake his head. “Alright, alright, I’m coming.” He stands up, and Bucky follows, to the fire pole and down they go. They head outside to the parking lot, the small patio area deserted at this time of night. Bucky sits on the table, beckoning Steve to lean against his side. “Something up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Earlier, when we were talking about, you know. Us. And you said ‘taking it to the next level’ - what did you mean, exactly.” Bucky has had about a million different ideas run through his mind in the meantime, and he’s not really sure how many of them he likes; everything from intense bondage to another person there with them, and at the heart of it, Bucky just isn’t willing to share Steve with anyone. They wouldn’t get it fucking right anyway, not like Bucky does for him. He huffs, jealous of a hypothetical before Steve has even had the chance to explain himself. “Are we talking a threesome, or what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve raises an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms. “Bucky, c’mon - name </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>person you would even consider letting into bed with us. With </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He nudges Bucky with his shoulder, making him fight a smile. “You don’t have to answer, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>interested in who you would pick.” His tone softens, almost like he’s ashamed. Or uneasy about whatever confession might be coming. “I just… I have some. Ideas. That I wanted to explore. With you.” He draws a breath, and Bucky pays attention even more closely. “I’m not saying that you don’t blow my mind or anything like that, Buck, you do. Every fucking time you touch me. I just… there’s some kinks I thought we could try.” His voice cracks a little at the end, and Steve Rogers-Barnes, firefighter extraordinaire and local hero about seven times over, is fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>blushing about trying bedroom stuff. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bucky wants to kiss the pink in his cheeks, and maybe go a little further. But they’re at work, and Bucky respects the hell out of that. “If… if you wanted to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky puts an arm around him, squeezing Steve tight to him. “I’m all ears, Steve - and don’t be stingy with details. Let me hear it.” And please - how on earth could he think Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>satisfied. The evidence paints itself on his face with astounding regularity. “What did you have in mind?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve shifts, and Bucky’s ninety nine percent sure that he just got really turned on from thinking about whatever it is that he’s going to say next. “I was watching porn the other night, when you were here and it was outside of some of the stuff I normally get off to - but there was this one, I have it saved, where uh… this guy got tied up. And the other guy, he kept edging and edging and milking him, really focused down his cock and other hot spots, you know?” He squirms, and Bucky sneaks a glance at his crotch - yeah, he’s hard alright. And Bucky really wants to exploit that. Badly. “I want to be in his position. The one tied down. I… I like it when you handle my dick, Bucky. I fucking love it, actually. I don’t have the patience to do it for myself and I thought maybe if you were the one in the position of power, you could make it happen.” He turns to him, fingers spreading on and gripping his own thighs. “I ordered some rope, too, for that purpose. I don’t know about doing it artfully-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shibari. It’s, uh, it’s called shibari.” Steve blushes harder, and Bucky soothes a hand down his back. “I’ve looked stuff up before, Steve, just in case it ever came up. Looks like it wasn’t the worst idea I ever had.” He’s still processing Steve’s confession, because wow. Just. Wow. “But I can do that for you, Steve.” He closes in, runs his fingers through Steve’s soft hair. “Been good for you for a really long time, haven’t I? That what you want, Steve, to be good for me?” He slips his hand under the hem of Steve’s t-shirt and scratches his blunt nails over the small of his back, finding one of those spots that makes Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>melt </span>
  </em>
  <span>for him. “Yeah, you do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bucky…” He says, a beat of warning in his voice. Bucky just kisses his jaw, subtly, closely, until he’s right at his ear. “We can’t do this, not here. No one’s gonna believe it if we get caught and try to make up some excuse.” He isn’t making the most convincing of arguments, and Bucky decides to interpret that as he kind of wants him to keep going. It isn’t like it would take long, </span>
  <em>
    <span>if </span>
  </em>
  <span>they did anything. Not with the way Steve got so hot, so fast.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your respect for the sanctity of the place is endearing, sweetheart, but how the hell are you gonna walk back in there with a fucking hard-on the size of Brooklyn?” Bucky decides to be bold and reach for Steve’s crotch, wiggling his fingers to spread Steve’s thighs open wider. He’s fucking hard alright, and Bucky knows exactly how to make this quick and good for him - he doesn’t expect anything in the way of reciprocation. Bucky has had plenty of uncomfortable boners to suffer through in his life, one more isn’t going to hurt anything. Well. Maybe his nuts after a while. “Can you be quiet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve blushes again, and Bucky knows that he’s on dangerous ground here. They’ve always been a little too fucked up for each other to listen to caution, and Bucky is all too aware of how he’s exploiting that right now. It’s worth it to make Steve feel good, because if he doesn’t, he won’t be able to answer for Steve’s constant squirminess the rest of the night. “I can, Buck, yeah.” He waits, watching, holding himself back from trying to thrust into Bucky’s grip. He keeps rubbing his dick through his pants for another moment, not kissing Steve, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>watching </span>
  </em>
  <span>the expressions that cross his face. The need, the near-shame of being too fucking horny to wait until later, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>urging </span>
  </em>
  <span>for Bucky to keep going. Bucky’s not going to quit, and without another word, he stands up and pulls Steve with him, moving a little deeper into the shadows. Inside the firehouse, they hear some of the guys laughing, and Bucky’s pace starts to thunder with a volume that threatens to deafen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just like this, Steve.” He takes his hands and puts them up against the side of the building, so that Steve’s back is to him. He reaches around and unzips Steve’s pants, careful to not fumble as he finds the fly of Steve’s trunks. He manages to get him out without catching his dick on any zipper teeth, and then as he circles his right hand around his cock, uses his left arm to brace over Steve’s chest and pull them flush against each other, his lips right in Steve’s ear. He starts off with long, smooth strokes, feeling the precome that Steve’s already built up under the hood; Christ, he gets wet so fucking easily. “Now I want you to think about it, Steve. How you’re gonna be facedown on that bed for me, legs spread and ass up, not able to do a damn thing but feel what it is I have to give you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve’s dick thickens at those words, and fuck, alright, that’s hot as </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Bucky, please.” Steve’s arms tremble, and Bucky focuses on his head, palming over his crown, thumb working slow and firm over the slit. “Don’t fucking stop, God, please don’t.” Bucky fucking loves that sound, how wrecked Steve gets when his nerves are sharp with this knife-edged sort of arousal. Bucky kisses the shell of his ear, finds Steve’s hard nipple through his shirt and pulls, getting this hot, loud  groan out of him - “told you be quiet, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve nods, and Bucky keeps stroking. “I’d keep you edged for so, so long, baby. Lick your hole and your balls, all the while as I stroke your cock, just how you like. Wouldn’t let anyone bother us, just me and you, baby. Think you’d want some fingers in your ass, doll? Make sure I empty your nuts completely?” God, Bucky’s getting fucking hot over it too, all too able to picture </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>how Steve would look. It’s a damn hot sight, and just as Bucky’s about to work Steve on to the final stretch, the station alarm howls through the still night and both he and Steve jump so hard that Steve nearly bangs the back of his head against Bucky’s mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sonuvabitch,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve growls, stuffing himself away and jogging for the side door. “Of course, of fucking course right as- shit, I’m sorry Buck.” He turns, presses a fast, fierce kiss to his mouth, the need fading in his eyes. “We-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will pick this up as soon as we can, Steve. Promise.” That has to be karma, telling them to not do things they’re not supposed to while on the job. Still, Bucky’s not going to forget the swell of Steve’s dick in his fingers as he’d been pouring filth into his ears, or how Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>squirmed </span>
  </em>
  <span>on top of that. Yeah, they’re gonna be going all in on this one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And nothing, not even a goddamn fire, is going to stop Bucky from giving Steve exactly what he wants.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky has been watching the tracking information for the rope that Steve ordered like a damn hawk, ever since he got the ping that it would be delivered that day. He’s not seen much of Steve since that morning, having disappeared into the art room after breakfast, and so far as Bucky knows, he’s not come out since. Blowjobs after their workout hadn’t done much to take the edge off of his nerves, and indeed, he got the feeling that the taste of come had only whet Steve’s appetite further - but they both know what’s coming. And Steve is opting to stay distanced for the sake of anticipation, and in all truth, Bucky isn’t so sure that he wouldn’t already have him worn out by now, and it’s past noon. He games for a little while, chilling in just boxers, looking up every few seconds to see if Steve has come out of his art room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After another couple matches, he gets up to find a pair of shorts at least, not wanting the neighbors to see him in his skivvies - but they’re coming off the second that he’s got his package in hand. His skin burns to be close to Steve today, especially since he figured out a way to keep Steve nice and secure; their four poster bed is perfect for tying the other ends to, ensuring that Steve won’t go anywhere. Voluntarily. That makes it even hotter, and all the more annoying to ignore the precome-leaking semi he’s been sporting since Steve decided that drawing was his favorite thing to do today. Bucky keeps putting his hand in his pants and tasting himself, hungry for… well, he knows. But they can’t do it yet. He does know that he wants to touch Steve, and the level of arousal he’s experiencing is directly correlated with how </span>
  <em>
    <span>little </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s gotten to do that today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fine. He can deal with space, so long as, in the end, he ends up with what he’s after. But seriously, where’s the damn delivery truck so that he can take his husband and rope him up like a calf and show him just how much he loves him. He keeps one ear of his headset off, listening for the distinctive rumble of it in the driveway. Steve will probably hear it before him, like a damn dog with the mailman. Bucky laughs to himself, absolutely secure in the knowledge that it’s very likely Steve is going to end up being reincarnated as a golden retriever in the next life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Footsteps sound across the hardwood hallway, and Bucky looks up, just in time to see Steve hopping into a pair of sweats and pulling a tank top over his head - was he naked while he was painting? “It’s here,” Steve says, bolting for the door. See? Bucky was right. He puts his controller down and goes to the end of the couch, hears Steve laugh as he exchanges a few words with the delivery guy. Bucky’s awareness sharpens, listens to Steve’s tread as he comes back in the door and down the hallway, a large box cradled under his left arm. He looks at Bucky, and there are these smudges of charcoal and graphite dust on his fingers and forearms, plucked out of the middle of his focus - for him. “You want to go find out what’s in the box, sweetheart?” He licks his lips, and Bucky’s brain starts to paint itself all sorts of astoundingly lewd images. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d love to,” he finally says, and follows close behind Steve, nearly running him over in his eagerness. Steve drops the box on the bed, made up perfectly - just for them to ruin it. Steve rounds on him and kisses him slow, deep, cementing the connection before they’ve even hit the mattress. Fucking Sealy is getting a Christmas card from them this year, for giving them such huge amounts of enjoyment. Bucky doesn’t hesitate to slide his fingers under the loose waistband of Steve’s sweats, pleasantly surprised to find that he was wearing briefs today - which means Steve’s been down to just those the whole time he’s been drawing. Artists, he swears, what a weird bunch. But it isn’t like he’s not been lounging in boxers all fucking day, so what the hell does he care? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve breaks their kiss, lips pinked and shiny. “I wanna go freshen up. Just a little bit. Can you uh, set it up? You know how?” He’s seriously asking, and Bucky nods, giving Steve’s hips a solid squeeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. Been watching videos for a week now.” He turns Steve and urges him towards the bathroom, eager to get everything ready. “Now go, I swear that I won’t be anywhere else when you’re finished.” Like he said, not even a fire. Steve goes, closing the door behind him, and Bucky gets to work.   He ties two ropes to the top of the bottom posts, two more to the posts lower down - wrists and thighs, to secure surely. There’s no footboard to try and work over, to Bucky moves the old steamer trunk that Steve’s grandad gave them to the foot of the bed, placing some softer pillows and a comforter on top of it. After that, Steve’s come rag - which isn’t likely to catch </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but the towel is already ruined, so no harm done there. He’s done a lot of studying on the kind of knots to use, and he knows just what to do to keep Steve in place without any fear of it cutting his circulation off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thing is, he needs Steve to actually be here to finish this last step, and there’s still water running in the bathroom. So he goes and gets the coconut oil out of the windowsill (melted by the sun, thank God) and Steve’s favorite cock ring, setting them on the trunk. He ditches the boxers, squeezes his own cock,as hard as iron and they’ve not even started yet. This experience may well and truly be what finishes him, all down to Steve’s overactive, very, very horny brain. But the ropes are there, Bucky is going to succumb to a heart attack brought on by arousal, and that’s just how things are going to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bathroom door opens, and Steve steps out, naked, hard, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ready. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He looks at Bucky, looks at the bed, unmoving. Bucky can see him still fighting it, even though it was his idea in the first place. That’s the thing about having a fantasy come true, the reality tends to look different. “Need another minute, Steve?” Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, watching his husband close his eyes, take a deep breath, then let it out. “If at any moment you say stop, I stop. No questions asked, alright?” God knows Steve has done the same for him in the past, and right now, it’s no different. Steve nods, walking to the edge of the bed and sees his cock ring.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d.. rather do this part myself.” He tugs it on, careful to keep his pubic hair out of it; Steve doesn’t trim much, and Bucky’s completely taken with how comfortable he is with just letting it </span>
  <em>
    <span>grow. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It looks manly, potent, on him, contrasted with the very close shave that Bucky prefers on himself. He wants to shove his nose in it, and inhale until his head spins - but that’s not what they’re here for today. There’s no taking his eyes off of his cock as it fattens further, the veins along his surface plump, virile, guiding Bucky’s eyes and plan for just </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s going to touch him. Steve goes and kneels on the trunk, and then his body down on the bed, arms behind his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, Bucky is definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to live through this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m all yours, Buck.” It’s soft, steady, and Bucky can’t believe that he gets to have this. At all. Steve looks at him from his limited viewpoint, watching him until he’s out of his line of sight. Bucky takes a second for himself, and then kneels behind Steve, cock brushing his ass as he reaches up and ties his wrists - not together, separately. He watches Steve’s fingers find their hold on the rope, caressing it as though he’s appreciating the power that it holds over him. So, so fucking gorgeous. Bucky kisses the small of his back as he does the same for his thighs, putting a little extra tug on them to keep his legs nice and spread. Steve’s nuts hang low and full, his cock pointed forward into the mattress. A fucking vision come true, all for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s it feel?” Bucky rubs the backs of his thighs, wanting the all clear from Steve before he goes any further. Steve tugs at the ropes with both arms and legs, and Bucky can </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>the urge to fade more. “Look awfully fuckin’ pretty from this angle, baby.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Feel pretty,” Steve says. “Just… I want you to touch me now.” Firm, but very much aware of the position that he’s in. Bucky takes his place on the floor, the pillow he put down saving his knees. “Please, Bucky?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleading. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bucky’s cock throbs, and Steve tries to push his ass out further - but the ropes keep him from going anywhere. It may not be shibari, but it’s certainly doing the job. “Got you, doll.” Bucky leans forward, pulling Steve’s cock back towards him and kissing the underside, the ring keeping his foreskin back. His head is swollen, flared, showing the places in which Bucky intends to place as much focus as he can. His mouth moves up to the space between his balls and hole, the glands that let Steve come and come prominent under the skin, ready to release what Bucky coaxes from them. He eyes Steve’s hole, pink, tight, the goal by which Bucky has every intention of getting Steve there, to that blissful place that might let the world off of his shoulders for a while. Yeah, Bucky’s gonna touch him, as much as Steve wants.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s taken his wedding ring off of the chain he normally keeps it on and placed it on his left ring finger, mirroring Steve. He coats those fingers in oil, and with a tender slowness, massages it into Steve’s hole, over his perineum, and onto his balls, pulling and pulling them with one hand after the other, never hard enough to cause him pain. He cups each of Steve’s balls, rolling them between his oil-slicked fingers, until it drips from his sac and the scent of musk and coconut fills the air. Steve breathes, just enough for Bucky to hear, listening to him work. Doesn’t want to miss a damn thing, does he? Bucky can’t blame him - but the sounds he makes, fuck, Bucky could live on them alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Buck starts to do the same to his cock, and that’s when Steve starts to make noise - but not enough. “Let me hear you, Steve, show me how much you want me to milk your cock.” He’s looked this up too, has at least an idea of how to make this last for him. Steve moans, right at the apex of a stroke - and does it again. “That’s it, baby, just like that.” Bucky adds his right hand work his balls, the ropes keeping every fucking thing on display. He’s gorgeous, needy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard. </span>
  </em>
  <span>So, so hard. “Feel so fucking good in my hand, Steve, feel so fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>ready.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fucking stop,” Steve says, groaning with want. “God, Bucky, I can feel your fucking wedding ring on my cock.” He shoves his face down into the sheets, tortured by the way that Bucky drags every stroke out. Bucky’s own arousal is near the boiling point, but like hell if he’s taking his hands off Steve yet. This isn’t his show, or his fantasy - no, that’s not true. Doing this to Steve very much </span>
  <em>
    <span>is. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Edging him off, watching the precome leak and leak down to the towel that Bucky had laid out. He stops long enough to scoop up the heavy, silvery strand that’s pouring from his slit, licking it off of his left hand, tongue dancing around his wedding ring; the taste of salt-of-the-earth and precious metal is addictive, and he wishes that Steve could see him moaning with his own fingers in his mouth. Right now, he’ll have to hear him. He picks the rhythm back up, getting his fingers coated, and then feeds the same to Steve, all the while working and working his hard fucking cock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look at you, Steve, all spread out for me.” Bucky settles back onto his haunches, licking the space under Steve’s hole. “Any idea how goddamn good you look, your cock swollen and ass up?” He lets go of Steve’s nuts and presses on that patch of skin, stroking his glands, watching the precome </span>
  <em>
    <span>pour </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of his cock. Steve hisses, groans, and Bucky starts to lick his hole. Holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>he tastes good, scrubbed up, warm and vital. It’s been a long time since he’s done this, and maybe now, Steve will ask for it to be done to him more - no fucking way that Bucky would hesitate, even for a second. It’s fucking heaven being on the receiving end, but Bucky also has a pussy to lick out; maybe Steve isn’t as comfortable with it, considering he's only got the one hole. Regardless - Bucky can be just as much of a giver as Steve can.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He keeps the pressure up on Steve’s dick, his tongue close up against his body, licking and licking as the spit drips down his chin and Steve’s balls. Steve moans, swears, tries to ride Bucky’s tongue - but the ropes do exactly as Bucky needs them to. Steve is entirely at his mercy, and Bucky fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>likes </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. His alpha bro, hairy tits and pits look-at-my-fucking-muscles husband, squirming and begging for Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasepleasepleaseplease, fuck, baby, I’ll be good for you, so, so good </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the most wrecked tone he’s ever heard out of him. Bucky mumbles </span>
  <em>
    <span>sound so fuckin’ hot when you beg, sweetheart </span>
  </em>
  <span>against his body, never letting up off of his cock, either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A sob breaks out of Steve’s chest, and Bucky checks him, the heavy, blood-pink way that the head of his cock is stretched. He’s close, trying to hard to hold it back. Bucky kisses each globe of his ass, and rubs fingers over his hole, trading his right out for his left. “Almost there, Steve, promise.” Bucky coats his hole with oil, his touch letting Steve know what’s coming next. His tongue has him loosened up enough that Bucky’s able to slip a finger in no problem, and it isn’t long before he’s got two in him - his ring and middle finger. Steve moans loud enough that it’s damn near a shout, followed by his teeth clenching in the blankets. “Now you know how I feel when your cock stretches me out, baby.” Bucky crooks his fingers down, leaning to watch his wedding ring bump against the rim of Steve’s hole. The spit and oil make his body hair cling to his skin, showing him </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>where he’s touching his husband. “So, so fucking hot Steve, God, you’re so full for me, aren’t you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve cries out again, and Bucky gets his index finger in him, rocking both fingers just right and watching Steve’s balls pull up to his body, big red flag number one that Steve is on the downhill side of this - “shit, baby, your nuts, need to empty them, don’t you?” Bucky strokes faster, inside and out, encouraging, watching, feeling until Steve fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>explodes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>pulse after pulse of heavy, white come splattering on the comforter and towel, and Bucky feels every goddamn contraction of muscle. Steve tries to thrash, pull at his restraints, body shaking, sweating, until Bucky is fucking nothing but sensation out of him, finally pulling his fingers out, gathering up Steve’s come and stripping his cock as fast as he can. He stands, one knee crashed against the trunk - and nearly shouts the windows out of their pains as he paints Steve’s back and ass white, four shots landing past his fucking shoulders. It’s earth shattering, cathartic - and exactly what Bucky wanted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All because of Steve, fuck, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>is. He loves him, so, so much, and even as he watches the come drip off of Steve’s back and onto the blankets, he knows that Steve loves him too. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuuuuuuuuuuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bucky cries, shivering with just how much ecstasy is coursing through his body. Steve picks his head up, tries to look back at him - and Bucky sees tears running down his face, the overload of pleasure finally hitting him. Bucky moves quick, getting the ropes undone, knowing enough about sub drop to know that’s exactly where Steve just went. He gets him sitting up, massaging the feeling back into his wrists, mouth on his neck and ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You did, so, so good for me Steve, so beautiful and perfect.” He presses soft kisses to his jaw, his cheek, his mouth, making the decision that they both need a long dip in the hot tub. “Just like a pro, Steve, you did so, so fucking good.” He cups his face and kisses him deep, unhurried, until his breathing evens back out and Steve’s color has returned to normal. “How do you feel?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve cracks a smile, wipes his eyes one more time, and Bucky grabs a bottle of water from the night stand, uncapped before he even hands it to Steve. “I… you know, Bucky, when a load of laundry comes out of the dryer, and it’s all clean and hot and just… good? That. My body feels like that. I don’t have any other way to describe it.” He drains the bottle, and then gets himself another one, taking this one slower. “Is that what it’s like, when I fuck you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Every time, sweetheart, promise.” Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, watching the hazy warmth brighten Steve’s eyes. “And maybe later we can do that, but right now, I need to clean you up and then we’re going for a nice, long makeout session in the hot tub. How does that sound?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve stands, presenting his back to Bucky. “I think that the faster you grab that towel, the sooner we can get out there. C’mon, Buck, clean up your mess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nowhere </span>
  </em>
  <span>in that statement that said Bucky couldn’t use his tongue as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So that’s exactly what he does, and he has every reason in the world to believe that it’s exactly what Steve would want him to do anyway.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>BEFORE YOU READ:</p><p>Two things. I'm not sure what the protocol is for firefighters who experience trauma like Steve does in this chapter, and nor do I go into detail. I wanted them sent home for the sake of, well, read the following to find out. It's fiction, and I'm doing it so that they can comfort each other. Secondly, I am perfectly aware of how long nipple piercings take to heal, but again, it's fiction - so I sped things up some. One hundred percent for the sake of tits and things. Because those are the important ideas here. If it bothers you that much, there's a complaint form somewhere else. It's not the comments section on this story.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Today has been a day of surprises. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Good ones, very, very good ones, and Bucky’s still working on wrapping his brain around a few of them. Like how they’re in Albany right now, and Steve is in the shop where Bucky got his tits done a few years back - because Steve had apparently booked himself an appointment a few days ago, woken Bucky up that morning and said they were going for a drive. Which, okay, fine, but the thing of it is, he didn’t have a clue that this is where they would end up. It’s a fucking roller coaster with this man, and most days, all Bucky can do is hang the fuck on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Steve. With nipple piercings. That he looks really fucking proud of. He hadn’t even flinched when the needle had gone through, just sat there with this shit eating grin on his face the whole time, watching Bucky squirm on the other side of the booth. The girl who did it - Aundrea, Bucky thinks, she’s not a face he recognized - had kept this disinterested-but-very-interested look on her face the whole time, and Bucky is pretty damned sure that she’s going to be jerking off to them later that night. Hell, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bucky </span>
  </em>
  <span>is going to be doing it, and he sleeps next to the guy who’s the object of his desires. And Steve can’t stop fucking puffing his chest out, proud of how they show through the absurdly tight t-shirt he’s wearing that day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of him is a little pissed, because he’s got nothing, absolutely nothing, to one up this. It isn’t a competition, it honest to God isn’t, but hell, Bucky’s off kilter from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve getting nipple piercings. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His brain is broken, Steve is a menace, and he’s just smiling and smiling like he’s done absolutely nothing to flip Bucky’s world around. “You can stop scowling at me any time you want, doll.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re out on the patio of an Italian place down the street from the body mod shop, enjoying a couple big dishes of chicken parm. Bucky sits across from Steve to keep staring at his tits, trying to back track his memory to how long it takes a nipple piercing to heal. Because there is no way in </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he’s going to not be touching those as soon as he gets the chance. “I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>scowling, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m just trying to get my head around the fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you wanted nipple piercings. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Just out of the fucking blue, apparently.” Bucky drains his glass of water, horny beyond belief. Like table humpingly, Steve clawing, get arrested for public indecency horny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve gives him another shrug, slides a hand under his shirt to scratch his belly - and raising it enough to fucking flash Bucky. Again. Like he hasn’t already fucking done it fifteen times. Bucky’s cock is so fucking hard that it feels like it’s going to rip the denim out of his crotch, and it’ll all be to blame on Steve. “Maybe I want you to stare at my rack more, Buck, and as hard as you were howling last week when I had </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>tied up and messing with them, I decided to finally see what it was all about. Besides, you know that I heal quick. We can play with these guys in no time.” He puts his shirt down, and then bounces each pec, fully ensuring that Bucky’s erection is never, ever going to go away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seriously. How the fuck is going to come at Steve with something to… not </span>
  <em>
    <span>retaliate, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but just something to keep him on his toes. “Steve, c’mon. Put them away, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>has to see them. I promise.” Even if it is really </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Bucky wants to see right now. And touch. And bite. And feel up until he can’t remember much else. Steve makes them flex a couple more times and then resumes his lunch, smirking like he owns the damn world right now. Maybe not all of it, but certainly Bucky’s. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothin’. I just like seeing you flustered and surprised. You get this really sexy pink in your cheeks, makes me want to come feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>up and see how deep it goes.” He nudges Bucky’s foot under the table, and then proceeds to keep journeying northwards. Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>kick him away, but his pussy is wet enough right now that any sudden movements would mean leaving a puddle on this damn seat. Steve’s triumph falters a little bit, and he leans in towards Bucky. “Unless… you really are mad at me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, Steve, I’m not. It’s your body, and you can do whatever the hell you want with it. I just… I’m jealous that you decided to have it done that quick.” Bucky puts a hand to his own chest, fingers caressing his left nipple through his shirt - that’s hard too, like he’s surprised to find it that way. “It took me a long fucking time to finally make the call and do it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, and I think it’s a hell of a lot better that you actually think about stuff like this. I… know that shit backfires on me a lot. But then you’re always there to help me out of it, you know?” He takes Bucky’s other hand, reaching across the table and sweeping his thumb over his knuckles, honest-to-God sweet and genuine. “I wouldn’t have done it, being with anyone else. That’s a promise, Buck.” He gets this almost dreamy look in his eyes, like nothing else save for Bucky exists in his world at the moment. Bucky blushes deeper, and picks Steve’s hand up to kiss his knuckles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a good guy, Steve, you really are.” He doesn’t trust himself to say anything else, just holds Steve’s hand for a few more moments. “And thank God you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>have me, because you’re gonna learn how to take care of your new toys properly.” He nods his head to Steve’s chest again, and only slowly pulls his focus back to his face. “I’m not taking you to the doctor because your tits got infected.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve gets this indignant look, huffing and pulling his hand away. “They’re not gonna get </span>
  <em>
    <span>infected, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bucky. Besides, I have you to doctor me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m a firefighter Steve, not a dermatologist.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know how to treat a burn, don’t you?” Steve picks up a piece of his napkin, tossing it to try and get it down the vee of Bucky’s shirt. Punk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not even remotely the same thing - now hurry up, I’m ready to go home and you need to clean those out soon. Which I will watch step by step.” And then blow Steve against the bathroom sink, but that’s just for him. “You can follow instructions, can’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From you? Every day, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lewd twinkle in his eyes isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>necessary, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but Bucky really, really likes seeing it anyway. And yeah, he’s going to have as much fun as he possibly can with this, boneheaded decision making and all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky just has to figure out some way to put the balance back once he’s done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Steve? He won’t even know that it’s coming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every step that Bucky takes back to the truck feels like a labor of Hercules, his helmet dangling in his right hand and the other itching to be rid of its glove. The world is a swirl of smoke and ash, but truthfully, there’s little else that can be done and for the most part, the fire is out. By the time they had gotten to the scene, all that could be done was containment - their chance to save the building was gone. Which, if the sprinklers had been tested more or any of the other million code standards had been followed with just a little more vigor, the department couldn’t have had to come out and Millerson’s Old Country Market would still be standing. That’s the thing with these old buildings- that’s just it, they’re old. But safety costs money, and now… well, money to put in a sprinkler system is the least of concerns for the owners. No one got hurt, but it was just an unnecessary thing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Most </span>
  </em>
  <span>fires can be prevented, Bucky’s found, but this one, yeah… it hurts a little bit more than he thought it would. Millerson’s always had something interesting, something he couldn’t find anywhere else. All of it’s up in flames now, and Bucky is just… pissed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not to mention that Steve’s on another call, something about a severe car accident near the freeway. He can’t imagine what that might look like, but the knowing will come soon enough. Bucky helps wrap up the gear, climbs into the truck, last one in. No one tries to talk to him, everyone there tired, hot, muted at the loss of a town icon. Who knows, maybe it will rebuild, maybe it won’t. Bucky didn’t exactly stick around to ask questions, nor did he seek to get interviewed when the local news station showed up. He’s not a fan of cameras, and personally, he doesn’t think that trauma counts as news. It just </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucks </span>
  </em>
  <span>and to make pornography out of tragedy, it’s sickening to him. People eat it up anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It stews in him all the way back to the station, and as he gets out of the truck, he can’t shake the frustration. All the way through equipment check, scrub down, and when he gets in the shower to scrub the smell of smoke off, the fight goes out of him. Pointless, absolutely pointless. He wants to check in with Steve, picking up slivers of transmission from dispatch and some stuff the other guys are saying; four ambulances have been dispatched so far, and it sounds like more are needed. It’s bad, whatever the situation is, and Bucky can’t help but wonder if he needs to go too. Thing is, it truly sounds like he got the better end of the bargain today. He’s seen enough multi-car pile ups to know that this one isn’t pretty, but truly, are any of them?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s worried for the people who got hurt, and the people who lost their lives. Mostly, he’s worried for Steve. Therapy has helped to diffuse the guilt at not being able to save everyone, but Steve still takes it personally. All Bucky can really do is be there for him. Steve would do the same for him, and has. Fuck though, it’s not a competition to see who had the worst day, at all. He latches onto that, dries and dresses, and heads for the kitchen to make a glass of chocolate milk and a sandwich. He’s spreading mayo on his bread when engine number five returns, and he lets the rush of activity happen around him, plenty of guys down there to help.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve will come to him when he’s ready, so Bucky goes ahead and makes a second sandwich, extra tuna salad stuffed between the bread. He gets the feeling that Steve is going to need it. He wishes like hell that he could do more than that. He goes and sits down, puts Steve’s sandwich in the refrigerator, chewing methodically to get his mind reeled in. Steve doesn’t treat him as his own wailing wall, but Bucky knows his husband. Shit sticks with him. Hell, it sticks with </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of them. He’s tempted to go to him, but doubtless, Steve is gonna want a couple minutes to get himself together. The last time that Bucky saw him cry was when he had him tied to the bed, but that had been out of pleasure - and because he couldn’t go anywhere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Today’s likely to be very, very different, and Bucky feels really fucking embarrassed for even letting that memory slip in between the events of the day. It isn’t the time or place, and Steve would be the first to tell him, too. He drinks some of his milk, contemplates a second sandwich, and hears Steve come up the stairs, bypassing the kitchen completely on the way to the locker room. Bucky stays put, long enough for him to take his clothes off and clean up - he’ll see that Bucky isn’t in the rec room or dorm, and find him. Something about space being important sounds in Bucky’s mind, but he’s not really sure how valid that thought is supposed to be at the moment. It’s taking everything in him to not run to Steve right away and help him find some peace, and maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t have the playbook for how to best approach the how or what. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve shows up twenty minutes later, looking absolutely drained, red-cheeked, his hand on the refrigerator door as he stares into it, the scent of his body wash reaching Bucky’s nose and drawing him like a magnet. Bucky stands and goes to him, rubbing Steve’s back up and down; the glassy look in his eyes as he tries to make a decision for what he needs is proof enough of his feelings right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I made you a sandwich, Steve, right there.” Bucky points to it and Steve nods, absently, getting it out of the fridge with a bottle of water. His movements are almost robotic as he goes and sits down at the table, putting the paper-towel wrapped sandwich and bottle down in front of him, and then covering his face with his hands. Bucky sits next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders and pressing his face to his shoulder, grieving with him. He can feel Steve fighting to hold it back, to not let that dam burst in him. Bucky completely understands if it does, and there’s not a single other person here who wouldn’t understand. When shit is bad, it’s just bad, and there’s not a single way around it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve wipes his face after a while, mumbling </span>
  <em>
    <span>thanks for the sandwich, Buck - </span>
  </em>
  <span>the fight is gone out of him, so obvious that for a moment, Bucky thinks he’s gonna have to hold the sandwich for him. If either of them drank, now would be the time for a couple of great big ones, but… they don’t. Steve eats the sandwich and drinks the water, and only then does he look at Bucky, face full of </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to say something, anything, but Bucky just puts a finger over his lips and shakes his head. “You don’t have to tell me, sweetheart.” He’s not going to make him relive it, not when it’s still a shock, so fresh in his mind - Bucky’s been on more than a few calls where the same thing happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve nods again, and Bucky aches, because he doesn’t know what the fuck to say to him, doesn’t know what to do to make this better, except for just be there for him. For all the guys that were at that crash site. Maybe it’s the best thing to do. “Chief said we could take a while, if we needed it,” Steve says. “She uh, read the dispatch. Nothing’s pretty about it, Buck, not a single fucking thing.” His lip quivers, and Bucky fully intends to take advantage of that permission, taking Steve by the hand. “Couple other guys have already gone home, too. I… shit, it’s nearly time to go anyway, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is. What do you wanna do Steve, go home? Catch a movie, or… just tell me, babe, and I’ll make it happen.” He slips a hand under the back of his shirt, skin to skin. He’s so, so warm, so whole and strong, and Bucky wants to hold him or kiss him or give him whatever he needs. Steve gives him a soft look, one full of the hope that Bucky might just be able to turn his day around. Bucky reaches for his jaw and drags his knuckles over his jaw, knowing how much a gentle touch can do for him. Hell, for both of them. Steve kisses the palm of his hand, puts a hand over on Bucky’s thigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Home, yeah, that’s… I think that’s the better idea.” Steve sighs, and Bucky is all too aware of how fragile he is right now. “I’ll go get my stuff, and meet you in the parking lot?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See you there.” He gives Steve a soft kiss, and watches him go. He wants to hold him close, let him know that he’s still here, that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>are. They’ll get another shot, and Bucky is confident that Steve knows he did all he could. Nothing half-assed, no stone left unturned to do his best to help. Bucky admires that in him, he always has. He stops in to speak to the chief, she gives them the nod and Bucky goes down the pole, meeting Steve as promised out in the parking lot. Steve keeps a slight distance from him, supposing that in his own mind, it’s the right thing to do. Bucky takes the keys from him, climbing into the Silverado, resting a hand on his thigh and keeping it there as he gets them to the road.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a few minutes, Steve doesn’t say a word, and Bucky’s fine with that, really. There are lots of things, lots of really, really bad things that don’t lend themselves all that well to being articulated. A multi-car pile up is one of them. But when Steve does start talking, he makes sure to listen. He can’t be more than a bystander to Steve’s words, the sun sliding by slow degrees under the horizon as they drive home. It’s a beautiful evening, one that shouldn’t lend itself in the least to tragedy like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna hit you with details, but… Bucky, I’ve not seen a mess like that since the trucked turned over in Ridgeway a couple years ago. You remember that? It… it was worse, Buck. A lot worse.” He sounds neutral, an attempt at detaching himself from the situation as best he can. Bucky’s mind fills with images that he’s done a lot of work to push down, but you don’t just forget a horror like that one. Yeah, he remembers alright. “I… Bucky, I can’t stop thinking about it. All because of someone not paying attention, that’s the fucking shittiest part of it. No one had to die today.” Steve draws a shaky breath, and Bucky can hear the defeat. He’s used up all of his energy, drained down to his bones. Bucky knows how that feels, intimately. “It’s stupid, Buck, so, so fucking stupid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, Steve. I know.” All he can do is get them home, get them comfortable. “I wish there was more I could do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just… stick around, Bucky, is all I ask. Don’t go.” Steve chokes a little on that last word, and fuck, that’s big red flag number one that Steve is spiraling a little faster than he had thought. He clings to Bucky’s hand, all the way home, and once there, Steve breaks down, and Bucky goes right with him, until there’s nothing left in him to come out and Steve’s quiet, holding Bucky to his chest, swallowing against the absolute shit of a day he just had. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Making dinner together restores a little bit of normal, and afterwards, Bucky strips down to his trunks, skin to touch, re-grounding if Steve wants him. Steve ends up doing the same, and they stretch out on the couch together, Bucky laying with Steve against him, his arms over his stomach as they binge a few episodes of their favorite sitcom. Steve doesn’t laugh, but Bucky can feel him smile every now and then, and when he does, he kisses the top of his head and rubs his chest, a month on from getting his tits done. The thing about hyperfertile guys is, they have an accelerated healing pattern, and Bucky’s had the chance already to mess with his piercings, made Steve come more than once solely by manipulating them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe a little more good touch is what he needs right now, and Bucky is willing to try that theory out. He keeps the stream of soft kisses going, eventually making his way down to Steve’s left ear. “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t keep processing however you need to, but I’m worried about you, Steve, and I want to make you feel good, even if it’s just for a little bit. You tell me how you want me to do that, and I’ll make it happen.” Bucky cups his pecs, thumbs rubbing over his nipples - and he feels pretty damn gratified when they get hard. “Just listen to your body, Steve, ‘s all you have to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve turns his head towards him, and Bucky kisses him over his shoulder, tongue swiping across the bow of his lips. He puts a little more pressure on his chest, tugging, rubbing, exploring exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>sensitive he is. The moans coming out of Steve’s mouth and rattling his teeth speak volumes, and Bucky feels confident enough to let his left hand go lower, cupping Steve’s dick through his boxer briefs, rubbing and stroking until his husband is hard, and maybe he’s got him far enough out of his own mind that he can bring him a little peace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wanna taste you,” Steve says, turning over and pressing his weight against Bucky’s body. He cups Bucky’s face, kisses him deep, grinds his hips against Bucky’s. He’s all heat, desire, a fast chase to get away from his own mind - Bucky will let him do it, too. Like he said, whatever Steve needs. His cock hardens fast against the push of Steve’s hips, and they get lost in that for a long stretch, humping and kissing and riling each other up. When Steve breaks away from his kiss, Bucky’s soaked through his underwear, able to feel it clinging to his inner thighs. That’s where Steve’s going, dragging him free, tossing his underwear away before he pushes Bucky’s legs back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve kisses down his thigh, fingers stroking his clit before his mouth ever gets there. “Fuckin’ gorgeous pussy, sweetheart.” His stubble raises lightning storms over Bucky’s skin, teasing him just long enough that Bucky is </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging </span>
  </em>
  <span>for it by the time that Steve finally decides to follow through. He watches him slide down the couch, right hand wrapping around his cock, and when his tongue takes a slow lap around his clit, Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>melts.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This, right here, is what Steve is a fucking champ at, eating him out until he’s screaming, begging, swearing. No part of him is left unexplored, and he wouldn’t admit it under the threat of a gun to his head, but Bucky overwhelmingly prefers to have his cunt licked than his cock sucked. Not because Steve is bad at it, but  because he’s really, really fucking good at eating pussy. The scrape of his beard drives him fucking wild, and it’s not long before Bucky’s fingers are in his hair, tugging, holding on, trying and failing to direct him. Steve holds fast, licking, sucking, slipping a finger in just far enough to make Bucky beg for him more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, baby, please, keep going, lick my fucking pussy, fuck, that- shitshitshit Steve, I’m so fucking wet, just- right there, right fucking there, fuck, I want you in me, baby, god fuck me, fuck me fuck me - </span>
  </em>
  <span>and so on, until Steve surges up his body, pulls his cock free and fills his mouth with his tongue, right as he pushes in, filling Bucky up so fast and good that his legs fall open all by themselves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve growls, his hips slow, sure, an inevitability of motion that has Bucky’s eyes rolling back in his head. “Grab my tits, Buck. Make me want it, make me want to fucking come in you.” He pulls back, body on display, chest out and proud. He takes Bucky’s left leg and puts it on his shoulder, nipping his ankle and keeping his gaze locked on Bucky’s face. Bucky’s hands go for his chest, groping him, just as instructed. Steve’s right hand stays on his thigh, anchoring them both - but his left stays down between them, rubbing Bucky’s clit, stroking his cock, and making an honest to God attempt at doing both at the same time. Bucky can’t take his eyes off of him, mouth open, kiss bitten, the sexiest fucking thing that he’s ever seen. “That’s fucking it, Bucky, shit, feel me the fuck up. ‘S all for you, doll, just you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky lunges towards him, and the motion carries them backwards, sitting on his cock in Steve’s lap. Steve fucks up into him, hard, fast, pulls Bucky’s head down to his shoulder, giving him just enough room to take over stroking him. Steve’s hands cup his ass, keep him spread, driving and driving until the sky breaks and Steve fucking comes, slammed into him. Bucky’s cock shoots off between them, both of them coated, messy, the fucking beast of this day killed for the moment. Steve just holds him, rocks him, not in the least bit willing to come out until the last aftershock is gone and Bucky can look down at him and caress his cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop trying to carry the world on your shoulders, Steve.” It’s quiet, firm. Steve sighs, and his grip tightens around Bucky’s body even further. “It means I lose you a hell of a lot faster than I can bear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, Bucky. I swear that I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Steve, stubborn and prideful as he is, might listen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For now, that’s good enough for both of them.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve, God love him, is frisky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s been frisky all damn day, the second half of their shift, and it’s to the point of being infectious, even though they both have every reason to be fucking tired out of their minds. Nope. He’s bouncing off the walls, touching Bucky every chance he gets, thirty minutes to go and then they have two days off, in which time Bucky intends to keep Steve as naked and chained to the bed as he can. If there’s an argument to be had, well, Bucky’s gotten really good at tying him face down long enough to get his mouth singing a different kind of tune. Trouble being, he’s pretty sure that Steve, at this point, is being obnoxious to </span>
  <em>
    <span>get </span>
  </em>
  <span>tied up - with his permission, of course. He has to want it, in order for Bucky to get him in that position. If there’s ever a chance to do it, he will.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or, maybe Steve is just horny as hell and it’s Bucky’s ass on the line instead, and there’s a pretty large part of him that </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants that to be true. And Steve looks ready to fucking jump him, at the first possible opportunity. Which means Bucky is going to have to get a spray bottle to keep him off until they’re behind a closed door, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>since Steve is the one who drove them to work. Entirely too easy to get in an accident, when Steve looks ready to take his clothes off with one motion. It has Bucky’s blood pumping, for damn sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sooo we are making a stop on the way home.” Steve’s in the rec room, drinking a root beer and trying to rub Bucky’s bicep, and Bucky really just wants to finish reading his newspaper. He’s been trying all day, but… Steve. Like a damn retriever that really, really wants to go out and just fucking have at it, roll around in the mud and dig holes and just go until he drops. “I’ve ordered Chinese, and I think we need to stop by Bad Apple.” He pulls Bucky’s newspaper down, trying, and failing, to conceal the smirk on his face. “And since I’m driving, we are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky folds his paper, deciding that he will just have to wait. “Okay, yes to the Chinese food, and why to Bad Apple.” Ever since they got the rope, it’s not like they’ve really been terribly interested in using any other toys. Well. Not Bucky at least. Steve tied up is all the stimulation he really needs, and the immense satisfaction that paints itself across Steve’s face every time he gets Bucky in the same position tends to be testament to </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>enjoyment. But hey, if there’s something that Steve feels like they could try or do, Bucky is cautiously for it. Cautiously, because there have been times when Steve’s arousal had outpaced his confronting the reality of whatever it is that they end up trying. “We aren’t getting another fuck machine, Steve, not when you got jealous of the last one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I was not jealous. I just didn’t want you to be lonely.” Steve crosses his arms, and all it does for Bucky is draw his eyes to the veins in his forearms, and how the sleeves of his shirt </span>
  <em>
    <span>strain </span>
  </em>
  <span>against his biceps. He’s been bulking some lately, and Bucky can’t really seem to think about anything but beefcake. Steve shaped, Steve tasting beefcake. His husband, who doesn’t think twice about how much sexual frustration he causes Bucky simply by taking an inconsiderate deep breath. “And no, not for that. Different reason.” He looks down at the floor, as though there’s something extremely fascinating about his shoelaces.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Steve, did you break another stroker?” Bucky tilts his chin up, eyebrows raised. “Just be honest. Or is the one at home </span>
  <em>
    <span>about </span>
  </em>
  <span>to break.” He’s not going to let Steve just decline to answer - it isn’t like there’s other people around, and honestly, the conversations they have with the guys get really fucking bawdy sometimes. Sex is something that Bucky has no problem discussing with other people, and Steve is the one who encourages it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… it split. A few days ago. I guess… I guess I got going a little too hard, but I was thinking about you and it got the better of me. Ripped right down the middle and I had to finish trying to hold the pieces together.” He actually looks disappointed that he broke it, but Bucky’s a little too busy thinking about Steve going that hard on himself to focus on his husband’s being upset with himself. “I mean, I can use my hands, or you, but… I liked that toy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky laughs, and takes a sip of Steve’s root beer. “I’m so glad that I make the list of ‘Steve Rogers-Barnes favorite sex toys.” Steve gives him a furrowed brow, and Bucky hands his root beer back. “Listen, sweetheart- why not not invest in something a little nicer for yourself. God, how much many have you spent on the ones that keep breaking? It’s time, Steve, I promise. I’m not gonna begrudge you something that can keep up with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you keep up just fine with me, Buck.” His expression turns soft, and he gives Bucky this moony-eyed look that makes him want to go to his knees and worship every inch of his body. “Don’t need a toy when you’re right there, do I?” His non-root beer holding hand reaches for Bucky’s, threading their fingers together. He’s sweet, he really truly is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m not going to argue that - but you like jacking off Steve, and that’s okay. I do too.” Not that sex isn’t just the fucking best with him, but Bucky has long maintained that having a healthy sex life with yourself is a good thing, and Steve at least maintains that thinking. Bucky does too, but he also doesn’t break his toys regularly. “And besides, I don’t think I’m gonna be up for much after Chinese food.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what they made hands for, Buck.” Steve gives him a kiss, and then sips more root beer. “Read your paper, I actually need to go talk to the chief before we go home.” Off he goes, and Bucky’s heart is doing funny things, like turning over and over in his chest. Goddammit, how the hell is it that his man makes him feel so far gone at every turn. Just the magic of him, and it still seems surreal some days that Bucky gets to experience it every single day of his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The time to punch out finally arrives, the crew change comes in, and they are, quite gloriously, off duty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky is mauled the moment that he gets in the truck, pressed against the door by Steve’s nearly full body weight as he sinks his tongue into his mouth, hungry for contact, humming contentedly when Bucky grabs his face and kisses back, threatening to spill over into pulling Steve into his lap and grinding - but if they haven’t been seen already, then they’re about to be. Bucky is the one to break the kiss off, lips tinging and heart going a million miles a minute. “You need to start the truck-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And find a whoopee spot, I know.” Steve grins, way too proud of himself for that one, and Bucky tries to pinch his nipple - only to be blocked. “You know, for someone who also has piercings there, you know how much that hurts. Fucker.” He gives Bucky another kiss anyway and then goes back to his own seat, starting the truck and grinding his heel against his crotch. Good. Now he has to suffer right along with Bucky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. That’s why I tried to do it.” Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off of his husband, closing his legs to feel the wetness between them get stronger. He knows exactly where he wants Steve, with absolutely nothing between them, either. “I feel like I pissed myself I’m so wet.” Keeping a straight face as he says it is tough, but Steve having to inhale and then bite his lip is payback enough, riled and wild. “You good?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” Steve glances over at him, planning out his route of attack on his body. Chinese food in him or not, Bucky is getting Steve inside him tonight. He doesn’t think that the stroker he buys is going to be the star of the show, not with the blue-tinted heat that Steve is directing towards him. “Just. Thinking about you. And your body.” A strong hand lands on his thigh, and while the shorts that are department issued aren’t exactly loose, there’s still enough give in them for Steve to push the leg up and cop himself a pretty decent feel of his quads. And Bucky isn’t going to try and do a damn thing to stop him, either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks like you’re doing a little bit more than thinking, Steve.” Bucky spreads his legs wider, Steve’s fingers getting dangerously close to the leg of his compression shorts. He wants him, badly, and he really feels like Steve is going to make an honest to God attempt at fingering him while driving - which is also very dangerous. Bucky stops him before the decision can be made, fingers wrapping around his wrist. “Easy, sweetheart, we both know where this goes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve sighs, and moves his hand back to Bucky’s knee. “I just wanted a little taste, Buck. Not… not much.” Give a mouse a cookie, Bucky muses. “But I guess our wellbeing is a little more important, right?” He licks his lips, like he’s imagining that he got what he wanted. Bucky’s brain fries out, and really, he hates to let Steve go empty handed - so he unbuckles his shorts and plunges his left hand into them, wrist brushing his hard cock as he slides his fingers over the wet lips of his cunt, knowing damn well that Steve is watching him out of the corner of his eye. “Open up, babe,” he says, and Steve sucks him down to the knuckles, groaning, both hands on the wheel like keeping that death grip on it is the only thing stopping him from going at Bucky in the middle of the damn road. It’s deliberate, getting him wound up like this, but the kind of sex that Bucky wants from him later doesn’t exactly involve soft motions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to get us killed, Buck.” Steve fixes him with this wanting, long stare at a stoplight, their destination just a few blocks up. “Or arrested. Maybe both. Killed and arrested.” They move forward, and Bucky, yeah, he’s pleased with himself. Really fucking pleased. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like it when you’re so flustered you can’t think, you get this sexy flush all the way down your neck.” Bucky zips back up, cupping himself through his shorts. “Makes me want to lick you all over.” If he can’t be honest about that with him, what grounds is there for a long marriage? None, Bucky thinks. “I’m coming in with you, by the way, you unsupervised in a place like that when you’re horny is about the worst idea I can think of right now.” He’s half joking, but Steve knows it’s true too. Once again, horniness outrunning ability. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure you just don’t want to browse too?” Steve pinches the back of his knee, the fog-thick arousal diffused some. “You don’t treat yourself often enough, Buck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My dildo works perfectly fine, and barring that, I have you. What else would I possibly need?” Sometimes, Bucky doesn’t even watch porn. He’s got his own live-in stud to provide him with plenty of spank material. “Unless there’s something that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>me to try.” Now that could be an interesting idea, especially since Bucky still isn’t quite as over the nipple piercings as he should be. Goddamn Steve and his chest, that’s the gold fucking standard of wank bank investments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, pulling into a space right in front of the stop. “Maybe we’ll find something,” he says, quietly. “C’mon - our food ought to be ready by the time we’re done here.” The restaurant they order from is in the same strip of shops, and it’s just another way in which the world is right when Steve prioritizes going to the smut shop over getting dinner. Bucky keeps that thought to himself, and follows Steve inside, as confident as can be. He hangs back a little while Steve makes a beeline for the toys, stopping to feel a lacey negligee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of him has always thought about what it would be like, to have something so beautiful and delicate against his skin, to present himself to Steve like he’s stepped off the pages of a romance novel. Trouble is, all of this stuff is designed for people with a different body shape than him, and he wonders how it would even look on him. He takes a glance around, Steve’s attention fully fixated on toys - he’s got a few uninterrupted seconds to explore. He sees one of the sales girls nearby, and he goes over to her, quietly. “Hey uh, do you have any lingerie, for um… men?” He’s got a vision building in his head, and Bucky knows how he can flip the tables back on Steve- but he also doesn’t want Steve to see what he’s doing. This is gonna have to be a surprise, or the wheels come off the whole thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, would you like to see a few samples?” She leads him over to the other side of the sales floor, while Bucky checks to make sure that Steve’s back is still to him. He looks through what he’s shown - he just needs one, </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe </span>
  </em>
  <span>two things. Panties, fishnets, the rest he can get at home. Who knew that they made panties for folks with more in the front; he’s hard just feeling the silken crotch of the blue panties he’s handling, double checking the size; same waist as the shorts he’s got on. Thank God for that convenience too. “Can you do me a favor? This is a surprise, so can… can you ring these up for me, while I go and see what my husband is doing?” He hands her cash, and heart pounding, he goes over to Steve, already wondering what his reaction is going to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve sees him approach, holding up two far sturdier looking toys than what he’s been buying. “So what do you think, Buck, the mouth or the ass? I’m partial to both, so…” He presents them to Bucky for inspection, and after a quick assessment - “definitely the ass. Really think you’d get more enjoyment out of it, don’t you?” Bucky tries to be sincere, but he’s a little busy thinking about the absolute dicking that he’s going to get later. Steve puts the other one back, takes his purchases to the counter, and Bucky sees his bag ready to go. The sales girl gives him the nod and he picks it up, Steve and the guy who helped him chatting </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>too excitedly about how they’re excited for the new porn guys’ strokers to come out, and he’ll definitely be back when they do. Bucky isn’t really paying all that much attention, and it’s only when they get outside that Steve even notices Bucky clutching a bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’d you get?” Steve tries to look into it, but Bucky’s got the top of it closed up tight. “Oh, something for just you?” He grins, and it ought to be off putting, but there’s something about the way he looks like he’s sharing in on a secret with him that makes Bucky all the wetter. “Alright, don’t show me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just some lube.” He can live with the lie, for now. “Go get our dinner, I’ll wait here.” Mostly because he doesn’t trust Steve in the least to not look in the bag while he’s in the restaurant. Steve kisses him on the cheek, leaves Bucky in the truck, and gives Bucky a couple of minutes to calm the hell down. He’s put together a little bit more of a plan, and that makes him feel better. If Steve goes whole hog on his plate like he normally does, then Bucky will have about an hour to himself to make himself up like he wants.  Thank God for predictability.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve returns, humming as he hands Bucky the bag with their food, and drives them home, singing to himself and asking Bucky if he thinks the wantons smell different from when they used to. The atmosphere fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>crackles </span>
  </em>
  <span>between them, and Bucky wonders if he’s actually going to be able to eat with how excitedly nervous he is. Had he been alone, he would have tried everything on before he bought it, so he’s just going to have to gamble on this one. As much as he likes a sure thing, yeah - maybe some mystery is necessary right now. Steve takes the food and the bag with his stroker while Bucky goes to the bedroom and shoves his bag under his side of the bed, kicking off his shoes and dropping his shorts in the hamper before going for a pair of worn pajama bottoms. When he comes back out, Steve’s got everything plated up and ready to go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look comfy,” he says, and catches Bucky by the waist for a kiss. “Gorgeous, even in those ratty old things.” He watches Bucky take his shirt off, tired of </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>having Steve’s body against his skin. “Trying to tell me something?” Sure enough, his hands land on his hips, going over his smooth body, all the way up to his chest. His thumbs rub over Bucky’s nipples, hard from arousal and the air conditioning. He takes the initiative and pushes Bucky back against the cabinets, his head dipping to Bucky’s chest and </span>
  <em>
    <span>biting, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the moan that breaks out of Bucky sounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>loud. </span>
  </em>
  <span>God, the thrill of being half-naked while Steve is still fully dressed in his work clothes makes his heart pound, and Bucky manages a couple of good licks back when he gets his hands under Steve’s shirt, nails raking over his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing you don’t already know, sweetheart.” Bucky brings him up for a kiss, claiming Steve as his for the night, once and for all. He gets himself a handful of Steve’s dick in the process too, stroking him through the shorts until it’s Steve who breaks them off, smacking Bucky’s ass and taking his plate to the sofa. Good God, if that’s how it’s going to be, Bucky may as well go ahead and not plan on walking for the next two days. He joins him on the sofa, turning the television over to some old war movie. Richard Burton is on the screen, and alright, he’s fucking handsome as hell but he’s got nothing on the guy sitting next to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Steve, if you had to pick, between him and Henry-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh Richard, definitely. No questions asked.” Steve licks the sweet and sour sauce off his finger as it starts to drip, catching Bucky’s eye right as he does it. It shouldn’t be hot, it shouldn’t, but Bucky can’t really stop the little whine of desire that escapes him. Steve puts the wanton down and wipes his fingers with a napkin and really, that’s probably better for Bucky’s overall health than anything else. “But I’d want you in the same bed, for sure, I wouldn’t want it to be just me and him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I trust you - finish your dinner, I’m fine.” And making a puddle on the couch cushion, but that’s also Steve’s fault. Biting his tits like that is guarantee number one that he’ll be as wet as a rainstorm for the rest of the night. Steve does as he’s told, and every few minutes, hands roam over each other’s bodies, until they’re done and Bucky ends up in Steve’s lap, held against him while he cups and massages his chest, greedy, horny, kissing over Steve’s shoulder until Steve groans with his fullness, and then he just keeps his hands still, fully ensuring that Bucky can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>be </span>
  </em>
  <span>turned off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s yours, sweetheart. Your off-the-table dream guy.” Steve nuzzles his head, hard as a rock under Bucky’s ass - but they’ll get to that soon enough. “It’s okay if it’s someone we know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky really feels a little… embarrassed, about his answer. But it’s going to be the truth. “You, Steve. Always has been.” He’s quiet about it, but Steve definitely hears him, and his arms tighten around Bucky’s body to go with it. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re sweet, is all, and I love you a lot.” He kisses the back of his ear, his thumb stroking the middle of Bucky’s chest. He feels sleepy, and Bucky loves him too, all the fucking time. They stay like that for a bit, until Bucky gets up and tells Steve that he’s going to grab a hot bath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want me to join you?” Steve kicks his legs up on the couch once Bucky’s standing, sliding his hand into his shorts and giving himself a tug. “I promise I’ll get up in a minute.” His sleeve stretches back far enough that Bucky can see his pit hair curling out, and that fucking does things to him too. Horny, horny things.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All I want you to do right now is relax, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll come back when I’m ready for you, I promise.” Bucky squeezes his foot as he heads for the bedroom, letting </span>
  <em>
    <span>when I’m ready for you </span>
  </em>
  <span>hang in the air. He’s counting on Steve’s desire to be lazy for a little bit to keep him in place over his natural curiosity, but anything can happen. Bucky grabs his bag from under the bed and goes to the bathroom, turning on the shower and scrubbing himself down, and once done, shaves his face and his cock, leaving his skin down there completely smooth. He’s hard as a rock the entire fucking time, and he has to to concentrate to keep from nicking anything valuable. It’ll be worth it, and that’s the certainty he clings to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky styles his hair up some too, having finally gotten it cut back to a shorter length, wavy and rich as he puts his pomade through it. Steve’s undershave is gone too, sporting these flowy locks that Bucky hopes he keeps for a long while, running his fingers through them at night a thrill that keeps on giving and giving. Once done, he moisturizes, looks himself over in the mirror, and opens the bag, trembling as he lifts the panties out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re still really soft, with lacey trim on them that only makes them all the more eye-catching. He steps into them, biting his lip once they’re in place; they’re snug, but God they’re comfortable, and once he’s checked himself over in the mirror he grabs the fishnets, hooking them into the panties and admiring his legs in them, the world skewing sideways from how much of a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>turn on </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s getting out of this. He hasn’t even shown Steve yet, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bucky </span>
  </em>
  <span>is the one about to blow his load in them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he should have jerked off before he started, just to take the edge off - it isn’t like Steve won’t be making every attempt to fuck the hell out of him anyway. Bucky is </span>
  <em>
    <span>counting </span>
  </em>
  <span>on it happening. He leaves the bathroom, goes to Steve’s closet, and picks out his blue button down, leaving the top two thirds of it open. Add a touch of Steve’s cologne, and Bucky finds himself ready to be ruined in only the ways that Steve can do it for him, and heads down the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He stops in the doorway leading to the living room, clearing his throat “Steve, why don’t you come follow me?” He tries not to let his voice shake, his erection flagging some - but when Steve stands up and sees him, his mouth falls open, his eyes get wide, and Bucky finds the confidence to step forward and let Steve get a better look at him, appreciating the fact that Steve’s stripped down to his briefs all on his own - and the front of them looks really fucking heavy with his cock. “How does that sound, Daddy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stops right in front of Steve, easy reach if he wants to touch him. Alright, he gambled on that last part, but Steve, fuck, he goes </span>
  <em>
    <span>wild, </span>
  </em>
  <span>picking Bucky up and slamming him against the wall, biting his way into Bucky’s mouth, cradling Bucky in his arms and hands, fierce, hard, </span>
  <em>
    <span>growling </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his attempt to fuse them together by sheer force.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘S this what you got at the shop, doll?” Steve dips, bites his neck, inhales the musky cologne that he put on. “Fuck, look at you, so pretty for me, so fucking gorgeous for Daddy.” He’s fucking rolling with it, isn’t he, easy as anything. He comes back to Bucky’s mouth, kissing the hell out of him, and Bucky burns as hot as a star because of it. He carries Bucky like that all the way to their bedroom, his stockinged legs wrapped right around Steve’s waist. He crashes down on top of him, mauling him with kisses, groping Bucky’s body, rubbing and rubbing his cock through the panties. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He makes his way down Bucky’s body, teeth leaving marks from his sternum down to under his navel, licking the faint trail of hair that leads down from it. “‘S that what you wanted to be, doll, my pretty girl?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky whimpers, Steve’s fingers teasing over his pussy - still through the panties. Which are now soaking wet. “Yes, Daddy.” He picks up his own confidence, hauling his leg back, letting Steve see the whole fucking show. “Just for you.” He’s living in this fantasy now, making Steve look at him as he keeps turning him on. “Always you, Daddy.” He bends forward and gets Steve in another kiss, his scruff a sharp, delicious scrape against his skin, both of them moaning. Steve uses just the tip of a finger to get inside and tease Bucky’s pussy, dragging it along his inner lips, giving his clit the most featherlight of touches - and Bucky moans like a whore anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Show me, baby, show me where you want Daddy’s cock.” Steve gets the last few buttons of the shirt undone and takes it off of him, nothing left to distract him from the view of his body. Bucky turns over on his belly and grinds against the mattress, showing himself off like the whore he is so badly trying to be for Steve right now. He pulls his panties aside, to let his balls be free, arching up so that Steve can see his pussy - shaved smooth, just like the rest of him. He drops his head, wanting to </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel, </span>
  </em>
  <span>to let this be Steve’s show. He hears Steve growl again, hands on his hips and thighs, exploring, teasing, admiring what’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>his.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>
      
    </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky stills, listens to the soft whisk of fabric falling away from Steve’s body - he’s naked now too. It’s followed by the sound of his bedside drawer opening, undoubtedly to find the cock ring that he favors. There’s the dip of Steve’s weight behind him, his hands stroking up from the backs of his knees to his hips. “Look at you, sweetheart, your cunt all pink and wet.” There’s the nudge of hot flesh against him, picking Bucky’s body up just enough to make the angle perfect - and Steve sinks in, completely, deeply, lording himself over Bucky’s back. He bends just enough for Bucky to hear him say </span>
  <em>
    <span>hold on tight, cause I’m about to breed my pretty girl just right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The world sinks away, after that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve fucks him hard, the sheer force of his hips on every thrust keeping Bucky’s legs apart, every inch of him felt, girth stretching and gaping his pussy. He’s definitely got the ring on, his grip changing with the speed of his body, hands on his shoulders, his hips, until finally his left hand ends up with a fistful of Bucky’s hair, still long enough that he can keep him where he wants. Steve comes twice before he flips Bucky over onto his back, crushing their mouths together as the sloppy mess that he’s made with his own come and Bucky’s slick soaks the bed. Bucky frees his cock, barely stroking as Steve fucks and fucks him, stopping only long enough to pound another load into him, creampied so much that very little of it stays inside. The air fills with the scent of cunt and seed, Steve fucking him so hard that his tits bounce. Bucky grabs hold, pulling, teasing, until Steve pins his arms above his head and fucks his orgasm out of him, Bucky’s cock spurting all over the smooth plane of his stomach.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, sweetheart, you’re doing so good, so fucking good for Daddy, giving up that tight pussy for me. Prettiest girl ever, baby, swear you are- </span>
  </em>
  <span>and so on, nonstop, until Steve is panting, breaking his stride, trembling with effort - so Bucky springs and puts him on his back, the fishnets bunching from the motions of their sex, one of the hooks undone on his left leg. He puts his hands on Steve’s chest and rides him, moaning the entire time. The angle has Steve’s dick somewhere near the back of his stomach, rubbing on his fucking spots. He takes the chance and strokes his clit, bouncing, filling himself up, all the while sweating and losing himself until he tips over the edge, his pussy throbbing and making it feel like he’s melting from the inside out. Steve catches him as he topples forward, both of them finally fucking spent - on top of which, Bucky’s pretty fucking sure that the panties are now ruined.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Worth every fucking second.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes a long time for them to come back to life, and it ends up in Bucky being tucked up to Steve’s body, listening to each other breathe and find their center again. Steve nuzzles his ear, and it’s only then that Bucky realizes he’s still inside him - and he kind of wants to stay that way. “You’re a fucking menace, you know that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky laughs, joining his fingers up with Steve’s where they’re held to his chest. “Like hell, Steve, you started this. First you got your fucking boobs done, and then you tried to French me, how many times today at the station? Yeah, it’s your fault.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only because I really, really want you, Buck.” His kisses land on his neck, and Bucky wonders if he’s got the steam left to go one more time - if so, it’s gonna have to be like this. He can’t fucking move, and he suspects that Steve has found his limit too. “Is that such a bad thing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky turns his head just enough for one more kiss, his exhaustion winning more and more by the second. “No, Steve, it isn’t. Ever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another kiss, and Bucky’s got all the forever he could ever want with him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I... honestly didn't think I would be doing any further fandom writing. Not even this year, just ever. But a very nice group of dedicated Stucky shippers got me back in the habit, and my thanks to them is immense. Mono, Clover, Cali, Lynds, Tedra - and others - I can't say it enough how much I appreciate your support. I'll try to make them even better.</p><p>A very wise woman told me that "do you think it stopped TS Eliot from picking up a pen and writing just because Shakespeare had done it too?" She's right. And my doubts are still there, but are lessened. She knows who she is.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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